Birthdays are fun. Even the ones that happen after you've reached the major-fun milestones. Last Wednesday night, on the eve of my 31st, there was much (much) whiskey to be had, and some utter silliness with markers and skin-canvas. My original plan of rocking out to some much needed karaoke with my friends was foiled by an unexpected IRS seizure of my favorite bar. (Oddly, these things seem to be just par for the course around here. The universe mocks me). So the night home far exceeded my expectations, as did my body's absorption of Gentleman Jack. I awoke on my day of birth still slightly drunk, but very happy. So it completely blew me away when Mr. Anti-Stepford dropped a birthday bomb on me: I was going to Boston that night to see one of my favorite bands, Florence + The Machine, with one of my favorite people.
Now, I'm eclectic to say the least. But the common thread of the music that I listen to and enjoy is that I *emote* to it. Good, bad or indifferent, it tugs at my heart strings and gut in a fundamental way, and Florence and her Machine are no different. The woman is ethereal and fierce, with a powerful voice and sense of atmosphere. Her lyrics are intelligent and metaphorical, and even her "love" songs are dark and dreamy in all of the right ways. Want chills up your spine? Go listen to "Heavy In Your Arms" or "Blinding". No really, go ahead, I'll wait.
see? what did I tell you?
Suffice it to say that I near to died of excitement (or the raging whiskey induced hangover I now had. Or a combination of both) and the show was amazing. I highly recommend the Pavilion in Boston - its a great intimate venue.
The night was liberating, invigorating, and thought provoking. While I'm still struggling with the highs and lows of depression, I have hope that this summer will resolve itself into a more concrete state, one that I'm familiar and comfortable with, that still challenges me, yet doesn't defeat me. The next big milestone will be getting my mobility back, which will change so much in my world right now. Its only 19 days away, but who's counting? I daydream of driving down a sun-dappled winding road, wind in my hair, iPod blaring. This will be one of the first songs I play: