"It's a Saturday night, and I'm looking for some party action. I don't care about getting laid, I want some quick and easy satisfaction." -- The Donnas, "Rock 'n' Roll Machine"
Two weeks ago I went to see a band other than L.A. Guns. I went to see Cinderella. I have seen Cinderella twice during the past decade, as part of the Poison summer tour. Monica is a big Poison fan, and I enjoy their music, even if I'm not a huge fan, so I've been to a few Poison concerts with her over the years. A couple of times Cinderella was part of that summer tour, and I found their performance to be better than Poison. So finally, after all these years, I saw Cinderella headline a club show here in Minnesota. They played at the crappy Medina Entertainment Center, which can pack more than 1,000 people in its upstairs ballroom. It's a huge room, but not a great concert venue when the place is full. But I decided that this would be the year I finally see them headline a show. They don't tour as much as Poison, so seeing them headline a show is an opportunity that doesn't come around very often.
They put on a good show, playing all the requisite hits from their heyday, and continue to put forth a quality live product. This band isn't held in the same regard as Bon Jovi or Motley Crue, but they are an exceptional live band that isn't as cheesy as Poison or Warrant. They didn't hurt themselves by playing a marathon set, but what the did do, they did well.
I bought the ticket when it went on sale a couple of months ago, so I was committed to the show. As it turns out, that was the same night as the annual fundraising dinner for my sister's workshop. My sister is mentally retarded, (a term that is politically incorrect, evidently,) and the workshop program where she spends her days has an annual fundraising dinner. I went to it with my mother a couple of years ago. My mom tries to go every year to support my sister's workshop, and she doesn't want to go by herself, so she buys two tickets. I could have attended both the dinner and concert, I just didn't want to run around that much. Instead my mom took one of her friends to the dinner, I'm sure.
My Halloween friends were also having a party that Saturday night. I wasn't heartbroken to miss the party, but I would have been there had there been nothing else going on.
And to top it off, the day of the concert I received a Facebook message mentioning there was going to be a poker game that night in Minneapolis.
I had four different things I could have spent my Saturday night doing. When it rains, it pours. I also knew that I'd end up with little to do the following weekends, and I was right.
The following Saturday was the night before Easter. Unlike Christmas, the world doesn't come to a halt on Easter eve, but not to my surprise, there was nothing going on, at least nothing that I was invited to.
And last night was no different. I spent my Saturday night at home, doing nothing memorable. I might as well get use to it.
They say there are five stages of grief. I'm not sure if I believe it. I'm still grieving the fact that I was duped by my ex-girlfriend and tossed aside like a sack of garbage.
I didn't have much of a denial state, if any. And although acceptance is the final stage, I accepted the unexpected kick to the curb almost immediately. There's really no bargaining involved in my grief. I haven't tried to get the ex-girlfriend to reconsider kicking me to the curb.
The only things I've dealt with are anger and depression. I'm angry that I was little more than a rebound boyfriend to her. She may not have considered me to be merely a rebound boyfriend at the time, but subconsciously she knew I was just a crutch until she was ready to move on with her life. Hard not to be angry.
The depression is a result of knowing that even though I'm a less than perfect person, I cared more for her than I cared for myself, and in the end I was disposable. There's a part of me that was always prepared for that day to come, but I fooled myself into believing this time it would be different. I'm an idiot, and I'll be spending several Saturday nights hating my life during the next several months. That's depressing.
When I have been tossed aside so freely and easily in the past, it has crippled me. I guess I'm a stronger person in my old age. I don't feel crippled. I'm angry and depressed, but it isn't crippling me. Perhaps that's because in the past I didn't see any options to a lifetime of loneliness. I had nothing to hope for.
Today I find myself right back where I was two years ago. I had hope I didn't have in my late 20s and early 30s, and thankfully I still have it now. I no longer have to fear a lifetime of loneliness, and I have to cling to that in the months to come. There's a light at the end of the tunnel, and I am optimistic I will reach it.