Peter Pan

What happened to me?I used to be a rock star.

Now, I’m no rock star, I can barely pass for a roadie at this point.

Halloween weekend, 1996:
I don’t remember it exactly, I’m sure that’s kind of the point. I’m sure I dressed up in a sexy outfit, or what I thought was sexy (even though I’m sure I still wore a very flat heel) and hit the town. I’m sure I did five shots of Southern Comfort and had eighteen rum and cokes. I’m sure I walked down Belmont and Halsted, checking out everyone in their costumes, all while looking for a place to dance. I’m positive I wasn’t dating anyone at the time, so I was all ready for finding some puddin’ and making out with some yahoo in a mildly clever costume. I bet I got up the next morning and went for breakfast and started drinking again around 5, ready and raring to go, maybe even with another costume on. Drank till 4 in the morning, then went to another party, then home, then slept all day Sunday, only getting up to make sure my pizza had extra pepperoni on it.

Halloween weekend, 2006
Well, I did go out on Friday, had a good time too. Got tired from 4 or 5 beers, went home. Slept all day Saturday, trying to reverse the effects of 4 or 5 beers. Didn’t work, took a nap. Saturday night went out again against my better judgment. Everyone had costumes on, everyone done up to the hilt. I wore a t-shirt and jeans, a friend asked if I was going as a girl with “straight hair” for Halloween. Actually, that was the best idea for a costume I’ve head in awhile. This time out, I drank vodka because the beer tasted horrible. Went home and fell into bed. Woke up Sunday morning swearing I will never do that again and how much I hate feeling icky the next day. Did a bunch of errands, chores, cleaned, hung up pictures, went to the grocery store, walked the dog, took a long walk and reveled in the fact that this was the most domestic, tame, wonderful Sunday I’ve had in awhile.

Folks, I believe I’m growing up.