Monday, February 8, 2010

Fargs is Dead - Part II

So some of you may remember a few months ago when I wrote about Fargs. Remember how she used to be so much fun and a party girl, etc etc etc and how I killed her? She suffered a second death this weekend; let me elaborate.

I went to Saskatoon this weekend for a little break. Went to spend time with my mom and my brothers. Nothing wrong with that. Fargs would do that. Okay, all's well. Not quite. I started out the day okay, had a couple of drinks and visited and pissed off this drunk pessimist cynical self-righteous self-pitying fellow, but had a good time doing so. Which by the way was an eye opener because I thought I was angry and bitter, but there are far worse out there. But I digress.

The big goal of the evening was to watch my brother's band play. He plays in two bands but this was the grindcore metal band, Mechanical Separation. Not my usual genre of music but watching him play is awesome, so I go and love every minute of it. The catch was, and brace yourselves, they didn't go on the stage until 11:30 p.m.!!! Can you even believe it? How the heck am I supposed to stay up for that business? I need my teeth brushed and flossed, moisturizer applied, digestive aids taken well before then, this simply would not do! As I said though, I love to see him play and my other brother was coming out too and it's always fun hanging out with I pressed on.

Back in the day, Fargs would've started drinking at 3 p.m. and not thought twice about carrying on right through until show time and beyond. However, this currently was not the case. All I could think about was not wanting to be that drunk (which is a sign of maturity, I know, blah blah blah) and how hungover I would be the next day and I had a two hour drive home. So I took 'er easy. Booorrringgg. However, made it to the bar to watch the show. My brother showed up, yay, let's have some more drinks. Yay, I'm out at a bar. Yay, I'm having drinks. Yay, those people are 22 and yay they have a wide assortment of piercings, tattoos and dreads...Yay, I look like a fucking soccer mom headed to the PTA meeting (of which I'm not a member, I tried that when my oldest child was in Kindergarten and those are some heartless bitches). Anyway, it was so depressing. My mother looked cooler than I did. Granted, she's a young looking trendy person but for the love of God I might have well taken Rice Krispie treats and Kool-Aid for the band....

In time I got over the horror of it all and figured what the hell, these people don't know who I am, technically I am a soccer (football, hockey, volleyball) mom, so fuck it. Then the show was over. I was inspired by my brother's passion for music and his ability to play it. My other brother wanted me to go party with him. I said no. Why, you say? I was scared! He's 27 and I'm not. He's single, childless and sowing his wild oats, so to speak, and I'm not. I'm married, riddled with children and the only thing I do with oats is eat them to ensure some form of regularity. I honestly did not think I could possibly cope with what his night might entail and could not get away from the thought of death by hangover nor did I really want to ditch my mom. He teased me a little, which I deserved, but I just buttoned up my cardigan and put on my sensible winter wear and went home.

RIP Fargs...

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