That didn't go as expected, now did it?

As I had written in my last post, this Sunday was supposed to include 30 minutes of in-the-present, focused, and relaxed "me" time.

I am sort of ashamed to admit that it didn't happen. But I think I have a good reason and really, I'm not feeling horribly guilty for not hitting that particular timeline. Maybe I am better for not caring? Who knows.

Here is what I learned this weekend:
Just because it is October, just because you *think* you know what sort of people might be attending an event, don't assume that you should wear anything resembling a Tutu to a concert in Chicago. I made this exact mistake, and BF rocked out his Woodersen costume from last year (you know, the dude from 'Dazed and Confused'?) at Saturday night's Yonder Mountain String Band show @ The house of blues. Rereading that sentence, I already see at least 4 things wrong with my actions. One, The House of Blues. in Chicago. This might be my least favorite venue of all time in the city. If you check message boards for artists' upcoming shows there, they all call is "House of RULES". That is true, as is the assumption that there is heavy consumerism and VIP action. With that being said, not a good place to wear something that doesn't involve jeans and shirt and some sensible shoes. Not only will everyone look at you funny, security might take your glow sticks and granola bar away for further questioning. The second item would be that BF was dressed as pretty much every neo-hippie's hero (It'd be a whole lot cooler if you did. .. Love those redheads. .. ) and therefore all of the neo-hippies (Yonder Mountain String Band plays bluegrass and frequents the jam band festival circuit- so there were a lot of these) could not get over seeing someone dressed like their hero in the flesh. I can say that sometimes I identify with this demographic (especially when Phish is involved), but I don't think I would drop so many "man"s in one sentence- ever. ANd worst of all, I was wearing a Tutu. The whole point of these concerts is come together, dance your cares away, we are all the same- even the guys onstage. Except I was wearing a tutu and therefore everyone started at me. This is not fun. Especially when the vegan girls with dreadlocks who only wear clothes from salvation army and only eat food from the dumpster get on their soapbox and how I am singlehandedly a jerk for destroying feminism and how could I possibly buy something like a tutu that would really be quite easy to make. *for the record, I bought the tutu at a resale shop. I had made one a few years back, but due to my lack of sewing skills, it pretty much disintegrated, so $10 for a tutu seemed like a steal to me.

So we left. Before the concert was even over. I am not YMSB's biggest fan, but I do enjoy live music and the entire scene of people and venue and ego was just too much for me to squeeze that enjoyment out. When I got home, and took off my glitter and tutu and tights, I realized that I really like me. Like I love that I left, even though who leaves in the middle of the concert? And I love that I came home and put on a black top and some skinny jeans. And I love that BF can rock Woodersen in public and do the voice and everything! IT all makes me laugh.

Which brings me back to my original point- the point of my assignment was to get more in touch with myself by focusing on something for me. Both my therapist and I had assumed that I needed total concentration and seclusion to do this. Obviously this is not completely true. No man (or woman!) is an island. Sometimes I wish I could be, but then I'm right back there.

So thank you Sarshie, for the suggestions. I sang the entire cab ride home. And then I hooped in my chic outfit in my living room when I got there. I guess those are my ways of being with myself.

(It occurs to me that I should be posting a picture, but seeing as this was written from my blackberry and I am just pressing "publish" from my office computer, that might have to come later. Apologies, because I do look pretty ridiculous/funny- but in a happy way! wearing a tutu.)