Pretty Girls Make Graves and Death Cab for Cutie, 9:30 club, October 23

It is late. And I am standing standing among a crowd of the young. Watching. Them and the stage and you and me. We have once again broken the no 9:30 club rule. But tonight I don't let my age discourage me from dancing my ass off.
Layers are off already. Dark green polyester retro retro bought for you a long time ago, pockets badged up with mypapercrane and plainmabel. You never liked it, glad I kept it for me. Lime green gap cardi is also in my arms and I feel like I am carrying half of my closet around. Pretty girl squeezes past me and whispers, "I like your t-shirt" as lots do when I wear my black and pink q and not u shirt. They are big here now, which is rad.

The singer from Pretty Girls Makes Graves is older than I thought she would be. And plumper and reminds me a little of my mother when I was little. Or perhaps a little of myself. It is encouraging that someone so normal can be on stage like this and have a bunch of people sing along. You are flashing me that Lego smile because this is the band you are here to see tonight. I think I am more here to see Death Cab, but as with all good life-changing moments, I don't know what the night will bring.

So the Pretty Girls Make Graves singer is on stage and I am thinking about my own situation. About who I am and who i want to be and who I am becoming. It is a good place to be, and good things to think about. I wonder what kind of job I could do where I would be making so many people happy. I start to think about what I want to do when i grow up, even though at 31, I am offically grown up.

These thoughts take me back to this line:

An unusual activity will bring about an interesting turn of events.

It was in my horoscope on Friday. I read it after the "Incident of the Lost Cell Phone". See, Thursday night, I found a cell phone on the ground. It was a Virgin Mobil pay as you go phone. I picked it up because, well, I am a scavenger. Anyway, long story short. I got the phone back to it's owner, who wasn't who I expected it would be. I got it back to it's owner who was actually extremely thankful that I picked it up and got it back to him. He and his friend brought me a card about how cats sometimes leave dead mice as gratitude, along with a nice note about the state of honest people. There was this moment, in the lobby of my office, standing there in my yeti shirt and lemon lime scarf, looking so french wearing a scarf inside, when I handed this phone to this person I didn't know and I got a small yellow envelope and the biggest smile. I was a hero. For a moment, I was a tiny hero. And I thought... I like making people happy. I really do. I like surprise helping people. It was such a small thing, but then again such a huge thing.

An unusual activity will bring about an interesting turn of events.

So the whole night, I am thinking about who I want to be and what I want to do. Between bands, I turn to you and ask you if you think I would be a good elementary school art teacher. Of course, you say. That would combine my love for helping people with my love for art. Interesting. I put the idea in my pocket and wait for the next band to take the stage.

We are packed in here and you are standing behind me, holding my hand. Death Cab for Cutie is playing and the lead singer looks like Fred Flintstone. "The glove compartment is inacturately named and everybody knows it." I can hear you singing louder than the band and suddenly our past floods through me and I am overwhelmed with the years and years of singing along with bands in dark smelly clubs with you. I look up and you seem so tall, even though you haven't gained any height. You touch my waist and it is like you are touching a new part of me. You are literally touching a part of me that was once completely hidden behind so many other layers. Perhaps this is figurative and literal. So, these past 10 years and perhaps nearly what 500 or 600 nights of dark loud singing along come flooding back to me and it is amazing, these hours spent with you.

Stiff legs make it hard to walk home, but we are energized. Talk talk talk. We talk about future plans and having a kid and where we want to be. The idea about becoming an art teacher comes up again, then you are saying the most bloody brilliant thing I have ever heard. You totally solve my problem of what to be when I grow up. You say I would be a great kindergarten teacher. It is something I have never ever thought about. But it makes so much sense. As my niece, Brittney says, you would be good at that because you are sooooo fun! It isn't like I don't want to be a web developer like I am now, I have just been trying to think of a reason to go back to college part time and didn't want to unless there was something I really wanted to do. And after a night of dancing and singing in the smoke smoke dark, one of hundreds of such nights in our lives together, you figure it out.

It is 2 am and it is hard to sleep with the knowledge that you know who I should be and I know who you already are and 2 might soon make 3.

We wake up with plans plans plans and I am finally calm but not and it is perfect.