I was at a concert last night. It wasn't someone I wanted to see. My boyfriend was doing a favour for a friend, long story, but he got free tickets, backstage passes, blah blah blah.....
The crux of this story was one of the guitarists for the warm up band. He was at the other side of the stage from me and my eyes aren't the best, but he looked very familiar to me. It struck me a few minutes after he began playing and I said something that I promised myself I would never ever say, in my head or out loud:
He looks just like one of my ex-husbands.
Now I must go stick my head in the toilet and flush numerous times to try to remove it from my memory, however, I said it so removing it will be very, very hard.
Easier will be removing D's comment the other day about hearing "Baba O'Riley" on "Dawson's Creek" and at the time, I thought that would be impossible (although I am still stewing about that one).
Saying things like "one of my ex-husbands" brings to mind fifty something year old women with blonde up-do's with Gucci purses and diamond earrings the size of Honda Civics. Perfumed, primped, pink suited and lipsticked. I don't know why, but the thought of even acting like one of those women just makes me want to wretch in my Tetley. So the fact that I even thought it has put a bad start to the week, even though it happened on a Saturday and I may not be the same, ever.
I think it's time to go shave my head, throw out my one dress and buy a pair of combat boots.
Goodbye my sweet smelling Danier world. It's been nice knowing you....
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