Sunday, February 06, 2005
What an evening...
Or, simply put: we rocked the damn house.
We had them singing, dancing, screaming, and giving us standing ovations. I was approached with compliments by many people (not pertaining to our private fanbase) about my performance. We were approached by the solo guitarist who played before us, asking us if she could open up for us in the future.
We were asked to be opened up for! Not the other way round...! We sold CDs... we had a full house... but most of all, and most importantly of all, we had fun. I guess that's what sucked people in and made them stay... we had a grand ol' time up there on stage, and this energy got passed onto the crowd, who reflected it back on us, making us perform even better.
Trust me, there is nothing like the feeling of being cheered at on stage by a hyped-up crowd who loves what they see, being up there right with your very best friends whose eyes shine and sparkle just as much as your own, and whose engery bounces off of you, mixing into something so dynamic, it is hard to understand for anyone outside our little circle of three. It puts you on a natural high that is comparable to nothing that I know of, and lets you soar up high, pumping you up with the belief that you can do everything. Everything is possible and within reach! It makes you feel like you are the Queen of the world! :)
Oh, and how I was soaring... even before we started with our show. Jo was coming! I was going to see her! And I kept pulling The Fiancé around everytime I got a hold of him so I could stare at his wrist watch, counting the minutes until I'd get to see her again... at 8 she would be there, she said. Just perfect timing with the beginning of our show!
I made plans... I decided after long and heated discussions with myself that I would approach her, and ask her out. I would hold eye contact with her while on stage, flirt with her... test the waters. No more passive-pathetic drooling over a fantasy I basically know nothing substantial of; now it was time to take the bull by the horns! How else would I ever find out, right?
The minutes passed by, slowly like syrup, and I was fidgety and jumpy... very unlike my usual self. Kept staring out the windows, unable to focus on the show that was going on right before ours. Good thing I could officially blame my nervousness onto the upcoming gig. Reasonable enough.
The performance on stage finally ended... and still no Jo. Yet, I was not even close to giving up hope. She said she would come, and I refused to believe that she is one of those unreliable all-talk-no-action type of people. She can't be! She is the perfect woman afterall, right? So we got ready... and soon I was so focused on performing, that I had - almost - blocked all thoughts of her out of my mind. I occasionally kept scanning the premises for her, but couldn't make her out anywhere. Oh well... we were doing so great up there, that in my arrogance and soaring high I started thinking along the lines of "your own damn fault, if you miss this".
Ah, yes... cockiness.
We were done... I was mingling and networking with the crowd... as The Hostess and her boyfriend walked up to me, a rather grave look on her face, hugging me goodbye, and explaining to me that they'd have to leave now, picking up Jo from the freeway somewhere in Downtown, where she has had an accident on the way here.
An accident!!!
My heart sunk so rapidly that it made me dizzy, and the look on my face must have made me look more than suspicious to her, as I inquired as to what had happened, and if she was okay.
Apparently she got rear-ended by some idiot, and pushed into 2 other cars, and ended up in a 5-car pile-up that left her stranded on the freeway only 10 minutes away from where the show was. Only 10 minutes away! When her whole long drive from Long Beach to Hollywood must have already taken her about 40 minutes that she was willing to invest in coming to seeme us perform! And that idiot who did that to her? Took off.
A freaking hit-and-run!!! I got so mad... so irate... thinking of her, her beautiful face, all upset and freaking out there all alone with a demolished car on the freeway... and that idiot who doesn't even have the slightest idea what he has done... who he has hit... and (- but that is only besides the point) how he has ruined my evening. I was so angry... I wanted to jump right into the car with The Hostess and speed to her rescue...
...what is this? If I wouldn't know any better, I'd say I was feeling the way a man would... all protective over a woman he cares about.
*checks self for boobs*
Okay, still there. Phew.
But of course my rescuing her didn't happen... I had my responsibility towards the band (- aside from the fact that I didn't want to appear weird), and so I had to let them go, take care of business, and worry for the rest of the evening. What it all boiled down to was that when The Hostess and her boyfriend got there, they managed to start her car again, and they took off back to Long Beach. Fortunately nothing had happened to her, but this doesn't change the fact that I somehow feel guilty for what happened to her. Of course I shouldn't feel that way, but... you know... she took that drive to come seeme us... and if we wouldn't have asked her to come, she would have never gotten into that crash in the first place.
She got hit because I wanted to see her again.
I am aware that this is probably a stupid way of thinking about this... but like I already mentioned a few times before: sometimes one's logic doesn't correlate with one's feelings. I can't help but feel responsible in a weird way-
-and my feeling like this finally kicked me in the a$$ enough to overcome myself. This morning I picked up the phone, dialed her number, and hit the talk-button. And why wouldn't I? She came to seeme us... she got into an accident while on the way to see me us... there is nothing weird in calling her up under such circumstances, and asking her how she was doing. And then, when I was finally, after months, resolved on talking with her on the phone, when I knew exactly that I was going to tell her that I feel guilty about her accident, and that I would like for us to take her out to dinner tonight to sort of "make up" for it, when I had my heart set on telling her all these things... I got a shot with her answering machine.
Well... I made the best out of it, and told the answering machine all these things. I told her that we (- 'we' is a safe word) want to take her out for dinner. I left my cell phone number. I asked her to call me back, if she likes to. I hung up, and spent the rest of the day glued to my phone - again.
And well... she hasn't called back. I doubt that she will. Our gig caused her to get into an accident, afterall. I am upset. And who am I kidding about getting her out of my mind, anyways? :(
We had them singing, dancing, screaming, and giving us standing ovations. I was approached with compliments by many people (not pertaining to our private fanbase) about my performance. We were approached by the solo guitarist who played before us, asking us if she could open up for us in the future.
We were asked to be opened up for! Not the other way round...! We sold CDs... we had a full house... but most of all, and most importantly of all, we had fun. I guess that's what sucked people in and made them stay... we had a grand ol' time up there on stage, and this energy got passed onto the crowd, who reflected it back on us, making us perform even better.
Trust me, there is nothing like the feeling of being cheered at on stage by a hyped-up crowd who loves what they see, being up there right with your very best friends whose eyes shine and sparkle just as much as your own, and whose engery bounces off of you, mixing into something so dynamic, it is hard to understand for anyone outside our little circle of three. It puts you on a natural high that is comparable to nothing that I know of, and lets you soar up high, pumping you up with the belief that you can do everything. Everything is possible and within reach! It makes you feel like you are the Queen of the world! :)
Oh, and how I was soaring... even before we started with our show. Jo was coming! I was going to see her! And I kept pulling The Fiancé around everytime I got a hold of him so I could stare at his wrist watch, counting the minutes until I'd get to see her again... at 8 she would be there, she said. Just perfect timing with the beginning of our show!
I made plans... I decided after long and heated discussions with myself that I would approach her, and ask her out. I would hold eye contact with her while on stage, flirt with her... test the waters. No more passive-pathetic drooling over a fantasy I basically know nothing substantial of; now it was time to take the bull by the horns! How else would I ever find out, right?
The minutes passed by, slowly like syrup, and I was fidgety and jumpy... very unlike my usual self. Kept staring out the windows, unable to focus on the show that was going on right before ours. Good thing I could officially blame my nervousness onto the upcoming gig. Reasonable enough.
The performance on stage finally ended... and still no Jo. Yet, I was not even close to giving up hope. She said she would come, and I refused to believe that she is one of those unreliable all-talk-no-action type of people. She can't be! She is the perfect woman afterall, right? So we got ready... and soon I was so focused on performing, that I had - almost - blocked all thoughts of her out of my mind. I occasionally kept scanning the premises for her, but couldn't make her out anywhere. Oh well... we were doing so great up there, that in my arrogance and soaring high I started thinking along the lines of "your own damn fault, if you miss this".
Ah, yes... cockiness.
We were done... I was mingling and networking with the crowd... as The Hostess and her boyfriend walked up to me, a rather grave look on her face, hugging me goodbye, and explaining to me that they'd have to leave now, picking up Jo from the freeway somewhere in Downtown, where she has had an accident on the way here.
An accident!!!
My heart sunk so rapidly that it made me dizzy, and the look on my face must have made me look more than suspicious to her, as I inquired as to what had happened, and if she was okay.
Apparently she got rear-ended by some idiot, and pushed into 2 other cars, and ended up in a 5-car pile-up that left her stranded on the freeway only 10 minutes away from where the show was. Only 10 minutes away! When her whole long drive from Long Beach to Hollywood must have already taken her about 40 minutes that she was willing to invest in coming to see
A freaking hit-and-run!!! I got so mad... so irate... thinking of her, her beautiful face, all upset and freaking out there all alone with a demolished car on the freeway... and that idiot who doesn't even have the slightest idea what he has done... who he has hit... and (- but that is only besides the point) how he has ruined my evening. I was so angry... I wanted to jump right into the car with The Hostess and speed to her rescue...
...what is this? If I wouldn't know any better, I'd say I was feeling the way a man would... all protective over a woman he cares about.
*checks self for boobs*
Okay, still there. Phew.
But of course my rescuing her didn't happen... I had my responsibility towards the band (- aside from the fact that I didn't want to appear weird), and so I had to let them go, take care of business, and worry for the rest of the evening. What it all boiled down to was that when The Hostess and her boyfriend got there, they managed to start her car again, and they took off back to Long Beach. Fortunately nothing had happened to her, but this doesn't change the fact that I somehow feel guilty for what happened to her. Of course I shouldn't feel that way, but... you know... she took that drive to come see
She got hit because I wanted to see her again.
I am aware that this is probably a stupid way of thinking about this... but like I already mentioned a few times before: sometimes one's logic doesn't correlate with one's feelings. I can't help but feel responsible in a weird way-
-and my feeling like this finally kicked me in the a$$ enough to overcome myself. This morning I picked up the phone, dialed her number, and hit the talk-button. And why wouldn't I? She came to see
Well... I made the best out of it, and told the answering machine all these things. I told her that we (- 'we' is a safe word) want to take her out for dinner. I left my cell phone number. I asked her to call me back, if she likes to. I hung up, and spent the rest of the day glued to my phone - again.
And well... she hasn't called back. I doubt that she will. Our gig caused her to get into an accident, afterall. I am upset. And who am I kidding about getting her out of my mind, anyways? :(
