Total Verbal Let-Down

The last concert I saw was in May of 2010, just a few months before I left for Tonga. When my friend Elizabeth told me The Punch Brothers would be in Lexington this month, I was all in. I'm becoming a bigger and bigger fan of bluegrass music, and since I plan on trying out the mandolin soon, I'd hoped it would be equal motivation as well as entertainment.

Entertainment would be light-years away from categorizing this experience. Concert doesn't even justify the caliber of talent these men expel when they play and sing. Though Chris Thile has the most leverage as far as stardom, the entire band was jaw-dropping. Each player (banjo, fiddle, bass, guitar, and of course Thile's mandolin) had his own solo in most of the songs, and the harmonies just made it more ridiculous. The speed and range of instruments and vocals...I was flabbergasted.

This was quite obvious when I got to meet the band afterwards for poster-signing. Whitney and Elizabeth shoved me in front of them because they were nervous and I was calm and tired. They're still people, I figured, so it doesn't really matter what I say. They're not going to remember me anyway--especially since their tour schedule has them packing up every day to go to a new town/state.

So Chris Thile signs first, then the bass player, who, as he's looking up at me, says, "Oh, I really like your pendant."

I was wearing a random, simple gold dangly chain with a two-part Japanese girl in a kimono. She looks geisha-ish. I'm not sure why I decided to buy it, but I like Japanese people and the colors were pretty. And I like buying strange things.

However, this made me feel very strange, as though I needed to accept the compliment while acknowledging the weirdness of wearing a little Japanese girl around my neck. So instead of a standard "thank you," I replied,
"Oh, thanks--I've been a little self-conscious about it because I was afraid it would make me look like a pedophile with an Asian fetish or something."

Calculating, awkward stare.

"Cause, you know, it's a little Asian gir....right. Well, thanks."
Luckily the guitarist saved me and said, "No, it really is cool. I like it."
I blushed, said thank you, and could only think about getting the hell out of dodge.
As we walked back to the car and the girls were all giddy and freaking out, was giving myself a serious mental going-over. Really, Jamie? Who would use "pedophile" and "fetish" in the same sentence while getting an autograph from probably the best bluegrass musicians in the world? That is beyond bizarre.

The girls said, "Well, at least they'll probably remember you! I'm like any other girl who just walked up and smiled and said 'thanks,' but now you'll be the pendant girl."

Of course, if they actually do remember me, I'm sure it'll involve adjectives such as "strange", "awkward", "Asian necklace" or "oddly chatty fetish girl." Honestly, how have I made it in public thus far? Someone give me a muzzle.

For the first time in about a month, I didn't have to work for two whole days. My past 3 work weeks have been:
Week 1: 50+
Week 2: 68 hours
Week 3: 55 hours

I've been tired and needing friends.
And to be honest, I've been in an odd, panicky state. I'm like the dog from "Up" (squirrel!) as I frantically dart between job searches, potential grad schools, and my slowly-progressing portfolio, which should be about 30 pages of creative nonfiction by the end of this fall.

So here are some things I've learned in this odd time of kaleidoscope emotions:
--Peppermint tums are WAY better than those fruit smoothie wannabes.
--Eating peppermint tums for breakfast makes me messed up.
--If you get an ulcer, you will die. Or you'll feel like it anyway.
--$8.25 an hour isn't worth dealing with misplaced anger issues.
--Sometimes, people just aren't nice.
--Sometimes, people are extremely nice and will bring you gravy and biscuits to work.
--If music were the only thing in church, I don't think I'd ever leave.
--Today, I listened to the best church music I'd ever heard. Piano, acoustic guitar, a violin, and a cello. No loudness, no screaming vocals, no theatrics. Just brilliant.
--When I become discontent with things, I want to move somewhere. Start new. I like doing that.
--I need to stop being a doormat. At least I'm an approachable one.
--I need to try out an older style of music.
--Sadly, coffee and I may have to part ways, or else my diet will consist mostly of peppermint tums. And Zantac. *Pouty face.*
--I miss working in a service-learning environment. I miss volunteering somewhere. When you're providing a service, people don't scream at you for making mistakes. People smile more often. They say thank you and mean it. I need that.

Living in this setting is wonderful, but sometimes I feel as though I were made for bucket baths and houses with no televisions. I need to find a mountain man with a lumberjack beard and have him build me a cabin in the woods. I like lumberjack beards, you know.