This is the rose that Kevin bought me the other night. His band, Midnite Thunder, was playing at The New Key Largo and a rose lady appeared out of nowhere while the guys were on their break.
I had gone to the restroom and when I came back out, it was lying on the table.
What a sweetheart.
Of course, the cheap part of my brain (which makes up about 89%) kicked in first and my very first thought was, “good grief, how much did he waste on that?” before the appreciative, girly part of my brain kicked in and melted into a puddle of goo at his feet for his romantic thoughtfulness.
Now don’t get me wrong, I love flowers just as much as the next girl, but Oy, MUST they be so freaking expensive? It’s hard to justify spending that much money on something that doesn’t even last a week.
At least, they don’t last one week in my household because I have a black thumb and kill everything I touch.
I have to admit though, this rose is one of the prettier ones I’ve had in quite some time and it’s still alive (*gasp*!) three days later.
I have sniffed it so many times that I actually pulled a petal out of my nostril this morning.
That damn flower WILL be appreciated, thank you very much.
I was in a really weird mood Friday night. I’m not a big bar person to begin with so I was a bit grumpy that I had to go (well, I didn’t have to go, but it would have hurt Kevin’s feelings if I hadn’t, so yeah, I had to go), but I felt doubly weird because my in-laws were there.
Now, this is nothing new, they’ve been coming to quite a few of Kevin’s gigs, but I feel … stifled when they’re there – like I can’t really BE myself, which is stupid because I probably wouldn’t have acted any differently if they hadn’t been there. But I don’t know … it’s like having your parents around when you’re trying to be cool….
… it just doesn’t happen, ya know?
I had a moment when I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole. I was sitting at a table by myself because I was video taping the band when this dude (I want to say OLD dude but let’s be honest, he was about my age *scowl*) stopped at my table and started mouthing something at me.
Because I’m UBER cool under these situations I gave him an impatient look and growled out a “HUH?”
He looked surprised but didn’t give up. He just leaned down and said, “It’s about time you got here.”
I nearly laughed.
Oh wait, I DID laugh.
Seriously? That was the best he could do?!
But whatever. I just smiled and mumbled something unintelligible (because that’s what I do best) and he scurried off.
The whole thing would have been funny if I hadn’t looked over to see my mother-in-law’s disapproving face staring back at me.
“Was that man just talking to you?” she gasped.
And I grinned, because when I’m embarrassed or uncomfortable, I always resort to inappropriate humor.
“Yeah! He was trying to pick me up, as if!” And I rolled my eyes.
I’m thinking my mother-in-law wasn’t amused.
Funny, now that I think about it, I don’t think that guy stuck around. I can’t imagine why.
Kevin was phenomenal that night. And I’m not just saying that because he reads my blog (hi honey!) and I’m trying to butter him up (is it working?!) but because, honestly? It’s true. He was on FIRE that night. He was relaxed and having a good time and even when the guys goofed up, they laughed about it, which only made us, the audience, appreciate their human-ness even more.
I know I’ve talked about this before, but honestly, when he plays …. *LA- SIGH*, it just melts my heart. He’s a different person. And just when I think it’s not possible to love him any more, he proves me wrong.
He rocks my world, ya’ll.
I’m just so stinkin’ proud of him.
The New Key Largo liked Midnite Thunder so much that they are putting them on a semi-permanent rotation (I’d say permanent, but I’m not sure if that’s like etched in stone and I don’t want to jinx them), which means, I’ll probably be hanging out there quite a bit. I really like the bar. It’s basically an old barn that’s been converted to a bar and it has a huge dance floor.
Speaking of dancing, yes, I danced. Like the last song of the night. I figured by that time, people were too drunk to know, or care, that I was out there making a fool of myself and I thought, what the heck. I also got Kevin to come off the stage (his guitar was on this wireless hook up thing) and onto the dance floor and I was able to tease him a little.
Dear God in heaven, I love that man.
The night was a success, at least, I thought it was a success. I actually stayed for the entire set (as opposed to leaving about 11ish), so I was super tired and just a little buzzed when I got home. I was also feeling really … weird and depressed, too.
I opened my phone to punch in a tweet but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember the number to call. I sat there and wracked my brain but …. nothing. A big fat dark cloud consumed my brain.
And this was BEFORE I had had anything to drink.
It really, really, REALLY bothers me that I can’t remember things. Just the simplest things. Like a stupid five digit number to call in a tweet. My lack of memory scares me.
I haven’t mentioned this on my blog before, but my grandmother has dementia. In fact, she’s at a level seven, which is the worst you can have it.
Level 7 – Very severe cognitive decline (Late Dementia)
All verbal abilities are lost. Frequently there is no speech at all – only grunting. Incontinent of urine. Requires assistance toileting and feeding. Lose of basic psycho-motor skills, e.g., ability to walk. The brain appears to no longer be able to tell the body what to do. Generalized and cortical neurological signs and symptoms are frequently present.
I haven’t seen my grandmother in quite some time. And even if I went over there now, she wouldn’t know who I was.
I’m scared that I might inherit this condition later in life. Especially since I can’t remember things NOW, in the prime of my life. I pray it’s not a symptom of things to come.
I know it’s a silly thing, to be freaked out because I can’t remember a simple five-digit number, but it’s so much more than that. I can’t remember most of my life.
I even have trouble remembering things that happened at the beginning of my marriage. I can remember if I see a picture or someone jogs my memory, but on my own? I’m lost.
I started to write a blog post that night — but it was so dark and melancholy that I decided to scratch it. I hate when I get like that. It’s not really who I am, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to those dark moments from time-to-time.
But my memory problems … they do bother me. A lot. And that’s the biggest reason I love this blog – it gives me a chance to write this stuff down because chances are? I’m going to forget some day.
Let’s just hope I’m ONLY forgetting five digit numbers and not something really important like, say, my family.
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