NRG Maulded Lang Syne Poster

NRG Maulded Lang Syne Poster

Come one, come all to the Marsh Blue Ribbon Pavilion on December 29th, 2012!

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The “In” Crowd

One of my favorite parts about living in New Orleans was Thursday night 80s/goth/new wave night at the Shim-Sham (later known as One-Eyed Jack’s).  I’d go with a friend from work and we’d dance and drink to great music for hours.  Everyone chatted up everyone else – it was a blast (despite a lack of central air conditioning).

When I moved here, I hoped to find a scene like this – people who were into the same music, who liked to dress it out, and who were a bit off-beat. 

For awhile, that scene came together once a week on Wednesday nights.  Everyone came out – they danced, they drank, they made requests, dressed fierce, and regretted those vile Casba shots on Thursday mornings.  It was a golden age in which to be a bit different.

Over time, the camaraderie has faded. The scene that once seemed so welcoming has vanished. Instead, you have these factions who all seem to be pushing their own agenda.

Don’t misunderstand – a lot of us have gone on, gotten married or had kids, or just settled down in general. But, many of us miss the days where we could go out, shake a tail feather (or studded spike) and be ourselves.

At the time, the “scene” had its matriarchs and patriarchs.  We cannot deny these folks have moved on and we wish them well.

Truthfully, for any sort of “scene” to ever exist for the future, there has to be some bipartisanship (if you take my meaning). While not everyone loves the Cure, not everyone wants to hear Combichrist 24-7 either. Not everyone is into fetish and polyamory. Not everyone wants to commute across town (ie – events centrally located).  Not everyone wants to be roped into others’ dramas.

I’m sorry, I’m not going out to hear whose husband is screwing whose girlfriend or boyfriend. I’m going out to hear Joy Division, the Cure, the Smiths, Nitzer Ebb, NIN, etc, to see my friends, and to DANCE!

We can never go back. Those days are past. For those of us that have chosen to make Indianapolis our home for the long haul, we need a place where we can dance and not get the glares of people dealing with their own internal or interpersonal dramas.

Just some moody food for thought…

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The Mourning Period

As my life takes on radical new changes (marriage, settling down), I can’t help but be a little wistful about the past.

Specifically, friendships that came through my life and disappeared almost as quickly as they began.

I was lamenting these feelings to a mutual friend and she told me it is okay to feel this way – it’s like a break-up. It’s a loss, so therefore we tend to process it the same way we would when any other relationship comes to its final crescendo.

At the same time, there’s a certain irony to it – the same friends who turned on me, called me names, the usual propaganda – have said equally horrible things about the “friends” they have now (descriptive words like “trying” and “overdramatic” came into play).

When it comes down to it, perhaps the same friends I am mourning were never really that great from the out-set.

I feel lucky these days – I’m surrounded by such positive energy and so many positive people that the dark drama of the last part of the last decade seems like a hazy dream. Perhaps the positive energy itself is my reward for forcefully pushing all the drama out of my life.



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Sleeping Arrangements

2012 – the year the economy still sort-of sucked.

We’ve all seen the fall-out of a lagging economy – lay-offs, pay cuts, doing more with far less, foreclosures, etc.

Just anecdotally, we’ve also seen a shift in how people live, or rather, who they live with. In this day and age, we all know someone over the age of 30 living with their parents or a roommate.


I’ve even encountered several sets of couples who have kids and are choosing to live together even though the couple is not together in the traditional sense. They are choosing to raise a family as a unit, even if their own unit didn’t work.

While I remain on the fence about having children, I know it is a blessing to be able to have one (just in general). Therefore, I admire couples that are able to remain friends in an effort to better their child’s life without a lot of shifting, moving, and drama (see various episodes of “The Maury Show” for poor examples of this).

What does this take? A level of consideration, patience, and forgiveness I’m not sure I could do (again I admire those who can). On the other hand, I know many divorced couples who truck their kids back and forth between living spaces and become pawns in an adult game of chess (which I believe is a form of neglect).

Which one comes out on top in the end?

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Kitty and Ike

It was just about 10 years ago a mentor of mine sat me down with a meteorology textbook at a Starbucks in Uptown New Orleans and asked me if I knew what the term “barometric pressure” meant.

No clue, other than it being referenced in weather forecasts.

He explained a drop in the barometric pressure in the eye wall of a hurricane signaled a strengthening of the storm.  Essentially, a drop in pressure ups the ante of how damaging a storm can become before it makes landfall.

Ten years and one horrible natural disaster later, we’re sitting in a similar spot:  Tropical Storm Isaac is poised to hit the northern Gulf Coast in the early morning hours of August 29th, 2012 – seven years to the date Hurricane Katrina slammed on-shore and changed my friends’ lives forever.

While Isaac is not as big in size or strength as his nasty big sister, the feelings are the same: thoughts turn to flooding, people trapped in the Superdome and Convention Center, people being displaced for months from their homes. A football team forced to spend an entire season on the road because they had no home to go back to.

A city with roots dating back to the French and Spanish occupations, sitting six feet below sea level with water on three sides.

Some have said, “well, God must hate New Orleans.” That is a truly horrible thing to say. God hates no one – we are taught in the Bible to “love thy neighbor.”  The Bible teaches to love and help those around you, even if you disagree with their choices.  Therefore, you might not want to move down there, but many folks’ lives are there – they grew up there – it’s their home like anyone elses’.  They work, go to school, pay taxes, do roller derby even.  

It’s not a matter of God hating or loving anyone – it’s just a matter of where the city sits along the coast.  



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Katrina vs Isaac

Katrina vs Isaac

The National Hurricane Center Tracking Maps for Hurricane Katrina (8/29/05) vs Tropical Storm Isaac (8/29/12).

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The Fighting 34

I’m about to turn 34 and nothing terrible has happened (knock on wood). 

I nearly forgot my birthday is in four days. 

I’m getting remarried to an amazing man who loves me unconditionally.  I’m skating again. I’m attempting to get in better shape and be a better person.

With the “trying to be a better person caveat,” sometimes I speak my mind. On some of those occasions, it comes back to bite me in the posterior.  Popular girl-turned-nerd-dater Cordelia Chase once said, “Tact is just not saying true stuff – I’ll pass.”

The other day, I got called “hateful and disgusting” by someone who I haven’t spoken to or been friends with in several years on a post that had nothing to do with that person. 

It resulted in me questioning EVERYTHING – am I really a bad person?  Did I deserve to be called those names? Was she right?

The answer is this: consider the source.  I’ve spent a great deal of time hacking out people who were fair-weather friends.  While yes, I speak without thinking and sometimes a mean word or phrase comes out of my mouth, what made it okay for me to be judged? Hasn’t everyone had cross thoughts or made a mean comment once in awhile? Hasn’t everyone made mistakes?

If people are badmouthing me (or anyone else for that matter), one would wonder why. If I am so hated, why bring me up at all? Apparently, I must still spark a reaction if I’m being called these names.  Personally, I don’t get it – I’ve felt fairly irrelevant as I get older.  I kind-of enjoy the peace and quiet that has taken over what used to be a chaotic mess of existence. 

I don’t pretend to have all the answers, but I do feel as though I know more at 34 than I did at this point a year ago.  Especially who my true friends are and will be in the future.  Image


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