I had a mulled wine and snacks party last night. It was mellow, warm and relaxed. A nice time.
I can't help but feel a little disappointed in some of my friends. The ones that never showed. The ones who respond with "yeah, maybe'. Or the ones who respond with "yeah, totally!". I know better. I should have lowered my expectations. I shouldn't have bought so much wine.
Anyway, it's over and I'm leaving, so big deal right?
One of my friends brought an old highschool pal of his, and I was not stoked on him. He was just standing there totally complaining about the music I was playing. He was like, 19. That's the age the music asshole rears it's ugy head. I know this because when I was 19 I was a total music asshole. I doubt I went to parties at strangers houses and openly griped about the music. Besides, I wish that I had listened to Paul Simon when I was 19, and not wasted my time and money on pop punk...or whatever.
I don't feel sad about leaving.
I feel relieved.
3 comments:
I think the music asshole goes out of remission at about thirty-five, too. I can't tell you how tired I am of hearing the washed-up butt-rockers at work talking about how anyone can get a record deal now and how none of them are as talented as Whitesnake.
Music asshole is a fabulous term. I never knew what to call it before, but I know exactly what you mean. Highschool and just-out-of-highschool kids in bands are great for this.
Glad someone finally told me you had a blog!
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