Diana Does (the) Dallas Warped Tour 2003 and a Sleepover Like She's Twelve

i have spent a lot of the summer complaning about being alone. it doesn't take much to realize i'm the reason it's this way. "Diana, will you do this with me?" "Diana, let's go to a bar together." Diana this and Diana that. no no no. then i pull the shell tighter over my head. maybe it was the people doing the asking or maybe i'm a recluse. i haven't decided yet.

so i changed and came out of hiding. we spent the night driving around dallas not doing anything. just driving. she groaned about my music. justin's music. whatever. there was no cordinated dance routines. just me singing along in the passenger seat, nodding my head. it was her idea to stop at the park. it was just getting dark and you could still make out the setting sun. oranges and reds blinding us temporarily.

we sat on the swings and caught up with current events. life's current events. boyfriends. unboyfriends. surprise birthday plans that made me ache with jealousy. college classes. i always feel pretty uncomfortable at these times of admittal. i never have the same stories to tell. nothing quite as good or as happy. just stories of "i really think this may work out" or "i have to wait till i get back to boston." we both talk about going home and living in limbo. college does that to you, we say.

i guess i never was as close to her as i thought. i was masked under insecurities -- will she still like me if... and it always went like that. i had a different life plan. i had a way things were going and she was always a bit skeptical. i was comfortable in the midst of chaos. this is how it always was and when it left, i felt a little lonely. i needed something to keep me a little shook up. shaken, not stirred. the life of a pirate is never predictable.
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i haven't paid this much for a concert in a year. i didn't know many of the bands. i really didn't know why i was going for anything more than tradition. this was our fifth year. we never could agree on music. i had passed my ska phase and she was still stuck fast. i was over punks. she still thrived on defying authority. kitsch appeal didn't really appeal to her. i was there more as observer. she would never give anything i was "in love" with a chance. it hurt my feelings as she dismissed bands that i wanted to share with her. music was the one way i knew i could use to communicate with people. not everyone understands handwritten notes instead of stuttered sentences.

we wandered into some band with horns. the mad caddies. i was more interested in the lead singer of Darlington standing right in front of me. i'm sure i was the only person there that recognized him. the only person there i would call a punk. i was surrounded by ambercrombie and fitch rejects and the hot topic generation. i didn't feel at home. she didn't understand "the scene" or indie culture. it's not something i can explain to her. it's not something i understand myself. i just know it when i see it. i thrive off that pretension. at least i feel uncomfortably at home. at the warped tour, i felt like a senior citizen who ended up at a Kiss concert instead of the Boston symphony. it's funny how i can feel like a reject amongst the socially rejected. i used to understand what this was all about. i used to want to be what this was all about.

no one stuck out in my mind. i liked everything she hated. we danced to less than jake, who are still ska after all these years. we got dizzy. we went home. i kept missing all the bands i wanted to see. i wanted to be home. any home. there was no happy here. not this time.

i've lost another thing that used to be home. 
¶ 5:11 PM |