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Monday, February 13, 2012

to rock or not to rock

Okay, so I expected a little too much from said party. Or, is it that I let myself get too affected by what others say to me…by the ‘bad’ news that I hear. Take Whitney Houston’s death for example. I have been thinking about it’s suddenness since Dora stepped through our door yesterday morning and said ‘Whitney Houston ist gestorben’.

Why am I so impacted by the negative things others do in their lives…by the seedy, dark, lonely, secretive, destructive? All of the things which I panic about possibly experiencing, or in some cases, experiencing again, in my own life and relationship. Maybe, that’s it. I forecast it all onto my life…and it scares me.

So, as great guy and I arrived at rock’n roller’s chaulk-a-block (for all those Don McSweeney fans), packed 50th birthday party on Friday night, I immediately received some not-so-great info from one of my friends…and it killed my party mood. Before that, as we were getting ready, great guy and I had been blasting George Michael, dancing around the stellwerk (well, I was dancing) and we were having a great pre-party time. This specific news doesn’t even have anything to do with me, but ‘wow’ I could not stop worrying about it, thinking about it, until poor Whitney took it’s place in my head on Sunday.

Great guy and I did manage to enjoy the shit-shaking tunes and all the tasty food which julchen made at the party. The guests bobbed along to the music in the still-being-renovated empty flat in great guy’s haus. We had some ‘champagne’ and snuggled close among the very varied rockers, who we mostly didn’t know.

The weekend’s reveling carried on with a visit from Mickey and Minnie on Saturday night. The evening ended with Mickey running across the river at midnight, chasing an angry swan, until he wiped out on the ice. We watched from our side, ready to call someone (who?) if he fell through the ice. He had brought with him some new wine, which is being bottled this week, and he seems to be very, very impressed with the new batch. He wasn’t spitting it out.

Sometime during the evening Mickey came up with a new word, ‘abgerockt’, which I think means ‘danced out, so tired from rocking that you can’t rock anymore’. Somehow this word reminds me of Friday night. I think I need to focus on the things that I can control, and how I impact a situation positively or negatively, and not worry so much about what others are doing.

Wishing rock’n roller another rocking 50 years…and hope he isn’t or won’t be abgerockt soon.

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