Another Saturday night with another tale to tell. I don't do this for me, you know. I do it for you, my faithful readers...if I don't go out and paint the town red, what will you have to read? My day started at the crack of dawn. Yes, the CRACK of dawn. I went to meet my cousin at her place because we were gonna get all purdy for the Sean Paul concert that night. We get to the salon, in Washington Heights at 8:18 AM. I was number 18 on the list. At 8:18 AM. But whatever. I was on a mission. This was my first time seeing Sean Paul live and that plus other vain reasons required that I be in top form. My wash n go summer look just would not do.
While at the salon I made a very crucial "look" decision. I got bangs. Long side-swept bangs. I haven't had bangs since I was maybe 12, so I was a bit excited.
So here's me with no bangs, New Year's Eve (12/06):
And here are my new faux-bangs (because I can't even commit to a hairdo!):
Hair in place (sort-of...damn humidity) I rushed home, rushed to the venue and tried to get my head wrapped around what the night held for me.
I was excited to be going to the concert because I love love love Sean Paul. In fact, I dare say I'd have all his babies tomorrow if he asked me. For real for real. And Calle 13 (reggaeton artists) are a new fave so that was cool, too. And my cousin was coming with me and she NEVER goes ANYWHERE so THAT was exciting.
Here she is with one of the Jenny's (private joke):
Then I was a little anxious because it was looking iffy as to whether or not I was getting in- it was first come, first serve, even with tickets- so I was forced to cut the line. I'm not proud of that but fuck it. We're talking Sean Paul here. Cutting of the line was necessary.
THEN I was a little bummed because Mr. DJ, my eye candy for the evening, had to work late and since MY entry into the venue looked shaky at best, I discouraged him from making the trip out just in case it turned into a waste of time.
THEN anxiety set in again because, well, my ex was going to be there. With his new girlfriend. I can't even tell you how stressful that was for me. I can admit here- because I feel like I can tell you anything- that I'm only 87% over him, and that from time to time I'll go somewhere or hear a song and be reminded of him and feel sad. Even though we're still friends and I felt good about a platonic relationship with him...a new serious girlfriend changes everything.
Because frankly when he ended it his reason was a hesitation to be involved in a serious relationship. Apparently that meant a serious relationship with me. So what's left to do but accept it, right? I was not his "one" and maybe she is. However, meeting the new girlfriend, especially when she's pretty, kind of feels like three steps back for me. I was stressed.
So what does Raquel do in the face of adversity and strife? She makes new friends (who also cut the line) and makes a B-line for the bar. Because the event was sponsored by Bacardi. Three rum and cranberries and a bunch of Calle 13 songs later I'd forgotten all about not being with Mr. DJ or my ex and his new girlfriend clear across the stadium watching the same show. I was in a good place. A good, alcohol soaked place.
Finally, in that good place, Sean Paul takes the stage with four bootylicious dancers and I all but lose my mind. He was so amazing! He did a pretty big set and kept me out of my seat the whole time...I can't remember a time where I've danced that much at a concert...maybe as a kid ogling at The New York Band in the parking lot of a Brooklyn Waldbaum's was the last time I danced that hard!
And halfway through SP's set, after my cousin and about 1/3 of the crowd started to leave (I assume to beat the rush to the exit), my ex texts me. He's leaving, but wants to see me before he goes. To meet him at the exit.
I knew if I said no it would look bad. Hurt feelings aside, he and I are friends and he doesn't know how I feel about this because I put in Oscar-worthy performances as "The Ex-Girlfriend Who's Is Totally Cool About Just Being Friends" so I suck it up and go meet him at the exit. I'm a big girl (and I was still a bit tipsy) so I just went.
And dammit, he looked good, but I was ok. And she was nice, but I was ok. We chatted for like a minute before he took off, with a hug and a kiss, to, I assume, be with her. But I was ok. And I think if I type that over and over again eventually I will be OK.
But let's not dwell on that. Or on the fact that as he was walking out with her, SP goes into his song "I'm Still In Love With You," the one he performs with Sasha, the very song I played on REPEAT after he and I split. The irony (is it irony or just fucked up? Alanis done ruined that word for me, dammit!) was not lost on me.
Let's instead focus on the fact that SP tore it up on stage for about 5 more songs, had one of his dancers doing the dutty wine ON HER HEAD, and closed the show with a great rendition of "Temperature."
And let's focus on how cool the new people I met were:
And that at the end of the night, after a small stint at Bembe (that place is just NOT the same without Medina in the DJ booth), I did finally meet up with Mr. DJ, and despite all I say to the contrary, I really do like him and enjoy his company...and all the naughty things that are involved with that...
How do I know? Well, at Bembe, when he asked if I missed him, instead of giving him my usual coy and non-committing, "maybe" I looked him in the face and just told the truth for once.
"Of course I did."
After that, the night just got a lot better...
*smooches...soooo tired after running a gamut of emotions*
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Boy you make me holler
Boy you make me sweat and
I can't get your tenderness
Still I can't get you off my mind
What is it about you baby?
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