25. 6-Month Bachelorette Party
Well, there he goes. Just a few hours back C texted me a picture of his in-flight menu (at my request), and a few dozen "I love you"'s were exchanged. And just like that: I'm sitting in my bed, typing this, bloated as hell from the past ten days of excessive, irresponsible, food-based indulgence, looking forward toward the coming weeks like a new day's sun peeking over the horizon.
It all starts tomorrow; I'll lie here and finalize my shopping list tonight, and hit up Whole Foods bright and early tomorrow morning for this week's groceries. And after that, I of course have two tunings scheduled; it's the first Sunday I've worked a while. First, a patch-up job for a session in Berry Hill (the artist is a 'heavy player'), and my second--a bit of a surprise call in the middle of the day today--will be for the band Spoon at the Ryman Auditorium tomorrow night. They played "Live on the Green" last spring and liked my tuning so much that they called me back for their Ryman gig. I weaseled out of going to their show last time and instead spent the evening in my pajamas on the couch; this time will probably end differently, if the offer is once again extended. I'll just need to bring ear plugs.
I'm ready. Looking around this very sparsely populated apartment, I don't feel blind sighted. I see my piano, all set up in its new corner drenched in unimpeded morning sun; I see my freshly cleaned desk and mic ready to be plugged in and tested in Protools; I see my plants out on the balcony, egging me on to grow fast and strong like they all are. I'll do my best. And at the end of this, whenever that may be, if life goes our way, C and I will sign a paper and be husband and wife (ceremony to follow, Boom the Great Spirit willing). Until then, piece by piece, I'll be building up my new career while simultaneously selling off my old apartment, one kitchen table at a time.
It's hard not to be at least a little excited, even with the big bubble in my gut and with the few extra pounds I've surely spackled onto my sides this month. If I pull this off, I'll finally get to show the world what kind of crazy songs have been in my head for my entire life. And I might actually get paid for it. Who wouldn't be psyched? And at the finish line: a trip across the sea, a family of my own, and the future.