i had the best intentions. totally wanted to see decellerati, and the tisdales. everthing else would just be fun filler. but when i got home at 8 p.m., i involuntarily put on my pajama pants, removed my contact lenses, and cozied into the couch next to a fellar who said a sentence with " ... order pizza ..." as it's action verb.
i still thought i'd go out. it's homegrown! chaos! sweat! people! music! single servings of gyro pizza! pbr!
i knew i'd have to go out alone and latch on to friends. all of my friends were working or boring or had uncontrollable diarrhea [true story] . but homegrown is probably like movies in theaters: just fine viewed alone.
when chuck left for work, i was still thinking about it. although, it was going to take the jaws of life to get me out of these sweatpants.
i cracked a beer.
i decided that if i went out i'd wear sweatpants.
i started following the twitter feed of events.
fun enough to get the gist of by reading it in the comfort of the red room, in sweatpants, with a beer.
so i totally skipped homegrown friday. but i read about it, refreshing every half hour. it's not exactly the same experience, but i bet i'll make up for it on homegrown saturday.
chuck sent me a text that said "someday homegrown will be like the superbowl. we'll be proud not to know who's playing."
next september, when i complain about being bored, please remind me that i made this decision to stay home on a night when fun was free for the taking. then punch me in the teeth.
but seriously: there is something to be said for listening to the replacements and playing farmtown on facebook. that's special, too.