Last Friday Nathan's band had a gig in Hot Springs, which is about an hour from our front door. Usually these gigs, at this particular dive, last till the wee hours of the morning and he doesn't get home till around 4AM or so. I typically don't go with him because I always have (and always will I guess) felt ridiculous in bars. I am not a bar-type girl. I am not that cool or hip. I do not have large tata's or any way to even make them look big without surgery. My wardrobe consist mostly of peasant tops, denim bottoms and flip flops; not halters, mini's and heels. I do not like lipstick or fixed hair. And I get bored, Not with the music, but with the Not-Having-Anything-Else-To-Do issue. I am a multi-tasker by nature and I always find myself wishing I had a book to read or a couch to stretch out on, or a craft project to finish. But I know none of those things are proper bar-girl behavior... So I just sit, and listen, and try not to think too much about how badly I want a legal pad so I can make a list of some sort. Another problem is that I don't dance at bars. Not because I can't, but because my husband is playing the music - which by the way was the issue at our wedding reception- but that's another story. I think (and maybe this is a dorky confession) that if it were possible to line dance to his music I would do that. I think that I secretly love line dancing because it is organized - therefore there are less awkward encounters with strange men - and you can were denim skirts and boots to do it in, which is a great reason to give anything a try I think. But his music isn't line danceable. So I sit at a table and drink one adult style drink, which is usually Dr. Pepper and Amaretto (I like to call it a Sweet Thunder) and I only order 1 of them because I can't stand to pay a lot of money for booze. It makes no sense to drink all that money away and then just get sleepy. If 2 drinks add up to $12, I can't help but think of what I could have bought at Target with that money (2 pairs of flip flops!) Or how far that money would have gone at a garage sale (an old chest of drawers!). So as you can see, I am lousy at going to bars. It's not that I am a prude, it's just that I am weird.But last Friday I went to one to hear my sweetie play. I went on the condition that we rent a hotel room in Hot Springs so we wouldn't have to drive home so late. And so that I could go buy some SJP Bitten garments the next day. Shopping is almost always my motive. Sad, but true. Lucky for us my brother is a waiter at Embassy Suites and hooked us up with a lovely room at the family rate.
While Nathan was setting up for the gig at the bar, I came back to the room and caught Mission Impossible III on Showtime. It was great to curl up in the big bed by myself and watch something that required zero brain cells, uninterrupted... After it was over I went to the gig and drank my 1 Sweet Thunder and listen to my sweet man give it all up and leave it on the stage, and I was so glad that I was there to hear him play. Even if it was in a bar.