Barfly May 2004

My Girl Wants to Party All The Time

Freedom. Sweet, sweet freedom. I had just broken up with a man who demanded way too much of my time, finances, and effort for my life to be any fun. Most nights I sat, itchy in my apartment, watching TV as thoughts of the show at the Blackbird danced in my head. I had to get out.

New Year’s Eve, I was at a party in Wales. Midnight hit, and I made my resolution: maximum fun. I was determined to make my life one big party. Luckily, I had just landed a job where I worked from home and basically set my own hours. My finances were finally back in order. I was ready to rock and roll.

The first thing I did was take off to San Francisco for a weekend to stay with a man I had just met. Luckily, he wasn’t a serial killer, and the weekend was one of the best I’ve ever had. Rejuvenated and renewed, I came home and started pressing my “going-out” clothes. On any given night, I was at Holocene, Berbati’s, the Tube, or Disjecta. I was lucky enough to know many of the door people, and even used my Barfly connections to get free drinks.

I know this story is supposed to have a moral, that somewhere in here I’m supposed to give up the party lifestyle and settle down again. Sorry, kids, it’s May and I’m still going strong. I spent so long in a cave-like apartment that, even months later, standing in front of the stage at Nocturnal still feels like a breath of fresh air.

I still have “Thirteen Going on Thirty” moments (or, I guess in my case, “Fourteen Going on Twenty-Four”) where I wake up and squeal, “Wow, this is my life.” I’ll be standing in front of a stage, or drinking at a bar, or hanging out with friends, and think “I made it.” The teenage girl who watched “Singles” and “Reality Bites” ad nauseum and dreamed of the house shared with friends, the job, the car, and the boyfriend in a grunge band now has the house with friends, the job, the car, and…well, let’s just say it’s probably a good thing I lack the boy in the grunge band.

The Postal Service have a lyric that states “It’s not a party if it happens every night.” No offense to Ben Gibbard, but I’m calling bullshit on that statement. Got back to me in a year or so, but for right now, I’m not ready to give up being a twenty-four hour party person any time soon.