So my posting schedule has been a bit wonky lately. Forgive me? Is anyone else having a hard time keeping up with their blogs?
Also just a warning: this post is all over the place.
It’s hard to believe that summer is just around the corner. Schools are already starting to let out, the weather is heating up, and the sundresses and sandals are appearing on the streets again. It’s such a beautiful time of year and it’s hard not to think ahead and make summer plans at a whirlwind pace. I’m sure I’m not the only one excited to come out of hibernation and see some concerts and hang out on some great lawns in the coming months.
If you’ve been following me for some time now, you already know about my fascination with the band Phish. I have seen them play more than 50 times over the years (in one year, I managed to hit up 18 shows). Because of financial constraints, that will no longer be feasible for me, though I will take in two shows at Jones Beach and possibly a straggler here or there this summer.
But here’s the thing: Over the years, seeing Phish meant going with a core group of friends I met in college and would recognize from seeing the band so many times. It wasn’t unusual to see someone in one city and then high-five them on the next leg of the tour. It’s hard to explain in words but it’s not sect-like at all, I swear. I have many happy memories and photos taken on various lots across the country and under tents before life led us in different directions. One buddy got married and had a baby. Then another got married and is now expecting his first. One just married three weeks ago.
And then I experienced an incredibly hard breakup with the girl who turned me on to Phish in the first place. She was always the one I could count on to drop everything and go to just one more show. The other day I tried on hippie dresses and I remembered with fond memories how much fun we always had on tour and I got sad.
I miss her terribly. And I want to reach out, but I believe the friendship is irreparable. And I’m not placing blame at all. Because if she were to ever read this, I would want her to know that I love her still but it just can’t be fixed.
I’m feeling “not going on Phish tour” guilt. As I’m writing this, I’m listening to a live stream of them play in Bonnaroo. And I’m wondering if people will think that I’ve settled with a boyfriend and am giving up on the band that meant so much to me and still does mean so much to me. But Bryan has very little to do with that decision. It’s just that going to see multiple shows with a boyfriend is a different experience than it is with friends. And it’s much harder to get the gang together these days now that everyone has responsibilities and, well, bigger “phish” to fry. See what I did there?
I feel like I’m doing that thing where I justify my actions. Phish guilt.
*I told you. This post is all over the place. I don’t expect any comments, just a lot of “what the fucks, Charlotte?” That’s cool, too. I blame the fact that the heat is rotting my brain. Let’s just forget this post ever happened.