Band Girlfriend Notebook: Whatever I want

Sometimes I joke that I’m in a relationship that is composed of three distinct elements: me & Nick & feminism. Usually we all get along fine, but other times feminism is a pain in the ass. Occasionally I get these twinges of discomfort, like if this precise moment of my life were being analysed in a Second Wave-y Women’s Studies class, Nick and I would be found lacking.

In these situations I try to shake it off and do something fun instead.

That’s why yesterday turned into Ladies Night at my fav bar.

I was standing at the foot of the stage with one of my pals, watching Nick & his band pack up gear and I had that flash of feeling like I looked like a teenage fangirl. Blech! I looked at my friend & was just like, “What are two babes like us standing around here for?”

Our tough-as-shit pal Amanda was working bar across the street. It was basically empty when I showed up with Sal. Our friend Dave obligingly bought our drinks. “Babes get in free before last call, right!?” I promised our friend Emmott that I’d give him a spare key so he can sleep over in town on nights that he works, even if Nick won’t be here to let him in. I got my friend Ryan’s new cell number. I figure that’s pretty good: new key buddy, new number, free drink. Ladies Night success!

These people are the reason I know I won’t get too lonely over the next four months.

Still, when I watched the band roll out today I had this feeling of infinite possibility wash over me – the kind that makes you just wanna go back to bed and sleep it off. I like being in a couple. It works for me. I like living with Nick (he makes the best breakfasts.)

But, my stubborn and introverted self also gets a bit of a kick out of the idea that this is a break from the usual couple-y compromises. No one gets aggravated if I accidentally leave my towel on the bed. No one to judge me if I spend all day in my pajamas. No one to consult about what to make for dinner. No one to stop me from painting the whole house bubblegum pink. (Joking about that last one. Maybe.)

Today before work I did the dishes from that epic cheese-fest of a dinner that I made for the band last week, and swept out the house. Now it’s just me and the dog and a tidy kitchen. I’m plotting my next move.

Seriously though… what to make for dinner? Cooking for one is the worst. I’ll take all your suggestions.

PS: It struck me that taking myspace-y photos of my sleepy face in my tidy kitchen was really, really funny. It is, right? I thought so.