4 posts tagged “chaundra”
This is the message I got from my friend, Chaundra, after she read my blog:
i can not believe you have blogged about harry potter. are you playing dungeons and dragons now, too? maybe magic the gathering? blog and harry potter do not go hand in hand unless you live in your parents basement.
no hard feelings. haaa
I just thought I would share that, because she is a huge bitch. And also, it really cracked me up. I love her despite her lack of understanding for my Harry Potter love.
No hard feelings, Chaunny.
If you were told you could relive a moment in your life, which would you choose?
Submitted by Slight Diffusion.
Relive in what way? Do I get to go back and live it all over in the way it happened? Or go back and relive something with the knowledge of the original outcome and the ability to change that outcome the second time around? Go back and change a decision you made? See where you end up? I like this question. I suppose I'll answer it both ways.
If I was going to go back and relive something the way it all happened, just for the sheer enjoyment of that moment, I would probably pick from April to June of 2005. My best friend, Chaundra, and I look three fantastic roadtrips together with hardly any money and had the best time ever.
First we went to Asheville to see Ryan Adams, stopping for a night in Charlotte to stay with her uncle. We coasted into Asheville on fumes, literally, and had pretty much only enough money for gas back the next day. But we had a blast. We saw Ryan Adams, we met some really cool people from Minnesota who we hung out with all night; we just had the best time. A few weeks after that we headed to DC for the same reason [we have a little bit of a thing for Mr. Adams]. It was so hot, and Chaundra's car didn't have AC, and we were stuck in rush hour traffic in 90 degree weather. It was terrible. And hilarious. We stayed at this creepy hostel on a hill in DC for eighteen bucks or something, and spent the next day walking all over the city just looking for something to eat that we could afford. We took our picture in front of the White House.
Shortly after that we spent a few weeks housesitting in New Jersey for a friend of Chaundra's who was going on her honeymoon. We drove to New Jersey all night from North Carolina, trying to keep each other awake. I fell asleep and woke up as we were going over a bridge in Delaware, the sun was coming up and it was so incredible. Then she made me - a born and bred Southerner with a genteel way of driving - drive on the New Jersey turnpike during morning rush hour. We are lucky to be alive. We stayed in a nice little house about 45 minutes from New York City, and took the train into the city almost everyday. That was the first time I ever visited New York; that's when I decided I wanted to move to New York. We got into trouble, but had a fantastic time. We went to some good shows; we met lots of cool people; we went to a carnival in New Jersey and rode the scrambler until we thought we were going to puke. It was an incredible trip.
I look back on those trips so fondly. We were 21 and crazy and broke, and we probably did some stupid things, but it's part of being young and reckless. I know I would never do that now; I'm too settled and calm. I don't party anymore. I could never go back to living like that, nor would I want to. But I wouldn't mind reliving it all again. The good and the bad, because it was an epic adventure.
Now, to answer this question in another way. Suppose I am going back and reliving a moment, aware of what I am reliving, and able to change the outcome. What would I choose then? No contest: I would have stayed in Ireland. I had the oppertunity to stay in Ireland for longer, but chose to come home. I often wonder what my life would be like had I stayed. What would have changed. I had a great time, but I think I let being homesick cloud some of my enjoyment. I was, afterall, thousands of miles from everyone I had always known, living with strangers. Fantastic strangers, who I adored and who became family, but strangers nonetheless. I wish I hadn't let myself get so homesick at times, and just enjoyed that time for what it's worth, and I wish I had taken the oppertunity to stay. Of course, that would have most likely altered the entire course of my existence. I most likely would not be sitting in an apartment in Manhattan with my dear Russian. And I hate to think of an existence without him. But it would be cool to be able to get a glimpse at what my life would have been like had I stayed. Not necessarily live that alternative life, but just see where it would have led me. Which is, of course, a dangerous game, because then you could be resentful of your current life situation if the alternate life was much better or exciting or whatnot. Or I may be thankful for my life now, because maybe everything would have gone to shit.
It should be of note, however, that there were signs everywhere that I should have stayed. Literally. And I am often a person who believes in signs, and tend to sort of live my life by them. On the way to the airport, the car blew a tire. After some nice people stopped to help fix the tire and left, the car wouldn't start. It just wouldn't. For no apparent reason. Rebecca, my Irish "mother", looked at me and said, "I don't think you're supposed to go." And I just ignored her and said I had to go, and finally the car started. I made it to the airport as my plane was boarding. The flight was uneventful until we got to Baltimore, where I was flying into for my connecting flight to Raleigh, and we encountered severe storms. The landing was terrible, and I spent about 12 hours at the Baltimore airport, because no flights could leave. With only Euros in my pocket because the currency conversion office had closed already for the night! I sat in the stupid airport and cried and cried and cried and thought, gosh, I probably should have stayed. I wonder all the time what would have changed had I stayed.
There is a fact that has been made abundantly clear in recent weeks: my party days are over. I have been hesistant to accept this fate as, once upon a time, I made a name for myself as the girl who was still dancing long after everyone had gone home or passed out. There was a time when Chaundra and I ventured out every single night of the week, even if no one else was out. We created a party for ourselves at all times. These were good, but obviously fleeting, times. A person cannot maintain that kind of lifestyle after a certain point. The cut off date varies, I'm sure, but for me, things began declining midway through 22, and last night - not even a month into 23 - things pretty much came to a halt.
John, Chaundra and I ventured out for the Continental's final throwdown last night. I switched my shifts around at work so that I would have today off, assuming last evening would be epic, like the days of yore. The Continental is a legendary East Village punk club that is closing its doors this weekend for good. Now, let's face facts, I am not and have never been punk rock. Yes, like most girls I know I went through a "punk" stage in high school, but that really really doesn't count. I have a lot of friends, however, who are into punk and live that strange lifestyle. God bless them, but it's not for me. The closest I get is The Clash, The Stooges and Velvet Underground. [Would VU even count? I have no idea what the strict definitions are.]
So what was I doing at the Continental last night? Jesse Malin was playing. Former DGeneration member who has gone solo and showing a whole new side. It was my second time seeing him; the first was last May at the Mercury Lounge on Houston, right after we moved to the city. I guess because he's kind of a punk rock guy, the Continental asked him to help them go out in style, and had this been a year ago, I would have appreciated last night a lot more.
Immediately it was made clear when we walked in that we were clearly not cool enough to be in the Continental. Brooklyn and East Village hipsters mingled with aging gutter punks. Two groups of people I have a deep and passionate loathing for. But we weren't there to make friends, we were there to hear Jesse Malin, which is always a good time. By 11 or so, Chaundra and I had pushed our way to the front. Despite prominant no-smoking signs, the air was thick with smoke. Everyone was rude and pushy; someone spilled whiskey on Chaundra and my back was covered with vodka. We were not happy. A year ago, these things wouldn't have bothered me; we would have been giddy to see Jesse Malin. Now, I just wanted him to get on the damn stage already so I could go home and go to bed.
When he finally came on, things got much better. People were slightly - SLIGHTLY - less pushy, and the music was good enough to distract from any annoyances. He and his band rocked it, and as per usual was full of stories. One of the major highlights of seeing Jesse Malin is that he is known for telling really funny stories in between songs. He opened with "Brooklyn" which might be my favorite song. After about an hour and a half, however, my feet were killing me and John and I were ready to go; tired of being the only sober one in a sea of drunk punks. It wasn't even 1am. Jesse vowed to make it a long night, and as much as I wanted to, there was no way I could stick it out until 4am, so we left.
Sometimes I am sad that this crazy party-girl phase is coming to an end. Sometimes I am happy. I have no regrets, of course. I have relished every late night with my friends that I've ever had, even those that sometimes ended in tears or vomit or both. It's part of being a kid. You do it now, so that you don't do it when you're forty. Nobody wants to be "that guy." And you know who I mean; everyone knows one. It amazes me that I would rather hang out at home or go to dinner with friends and then call it a night. The Katie of three years ago wouldn't even be friends with this Katie. Go figure. I am happy for who I am, and I am happy for who I was.
At any rate, I am getting old. I am not punk rock. And my party days are officially over. But I can still have a good time; the good times just end a lot earlier now.
Five Things That Are Making Me Really Happy Right Now. [In no particular order.]:
- In two days Chaundra will be here.
- On Thursday we will be seeing Jesse Malin at the Continental Bar, which is about to close. [I saw him at the Mercury Lounge in May, and it was one of the greatest shows ever.]
- I am currently reading Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs by Chuck Klosterman and
it is one of the funniest books I have read in a long time.
- Last night I had dinner with good friends at Yaffa and then got to see Josh spinning at Capone's in Brooklyn. He played New Order for me as soon as I walked in.
- Although I have to work tomorrow, I get a three day weekend out of the deal next weekend to spend with Chaundra before she leaves me for another couple of months.
