A few weeks ago my company sent out an email that our summer hours had been approved. Because this announcement came much later than usual, I hadn’t anticipated I would have an extra day and a half to play with and because I have two days I have to take off by the end of August…
It can only mean one thing.
I am grabbing my girlfriend (the one who recently broke up with her boyfriend) and we’re going to take a road trip to Indiana and Wisconsin for three more nights of Phish. Then we return on a Monday and hit up Jones Beach for two more nights.
Am I crazy? I’ve turned into a “yes” girl. But I can’t in words describe how liberating it is to not have anyone else to answer to after years of gracefully bowing out of concerts and things because I knew my boyfriend wasn’t interested. When it’s all said and done and the tour comes to a close, I will have seen 12 Phish shows this summer alone. But holy shit, I’m excited there are more to come (in case you couldn’t tell).
As long as I’ve followed Phish with Karen, we’ve never both been single at the same time. Which isn’t to say that it’s not fun to go to a show with a boyfriend (I actually could have used one at last weekend’s Lilith Fair, where I sat on the lawn with a ton of couples). It’s just different. I feel as though I have to take advantage of this now, because who knows when an opportunity like this will present itself again. There’s a good chance either one of us will soon run off into the sunset with a new hippy boyfriend and then we may never again have the chance to flirt with all these gorgeous single men (also, the ratio is something like 10:1, if my Phish math is correct).
In other news, I saw my beautiful Bikram boy this week again. I’m not sure if I have mentioned him previously, but I’ve checked him out for months now. He has strong arms with lots of tattoos, long dark hair which he pulls back into a ponytail, and a kind, chiseled face. We bumped into each other in the stairwell (as I was leaving class and he was coming in to take his). We danced clumsily while trying to pick a side of the staircase to walk on. We locked eyes. He smiled at me…
And then a bead of sweat dripped down my nose.
Come on, face! Seriously?! Ugh. So much for that one.
In regards to last week’s post in which I mentioned my need for a hot, steamy, passionate fling with a certain someone who shall remain nameless: it ain’t happening. Le sigh. Oh well. Que sera sera and he can suck it BIG TIME because I’m moving on to bigger and brighter and phishier things.