Flip a God Damned Coin

I'm a bad friend

Or

I hate being in the wedding party

Or

Really don't want to miss a moment of DEMF

Whatever it is, it's the knife cutting my heart in half. I'm their daughters godmother for fuck-sake. I also was just in her twin sisters wedding, so this is pretty much (a better version admitting) of the same wedding. At the root of it all, is the simple and maybe selfish fact that I DO NOT want to be away from Detroit for a fraction of a second when that bass drops on the first day of DEMF. The music is my medicine, the sound is my siren.

DEMF, the Detroit electronic music festival, is one acronym that pretty much sums up everything that makes me happy. Booming speakers, masses of half-naked-wet-colorful-party-hardy-animals, substances, energy, beautiful girls, sexy men, and parties that don't stop. Old friends, new friends, single serving friends. Ohh and the booty bouncing. The pop, lock, and drop. The dancing yourself into a frenzy until you're dancing in a puddle of your sweat. Dancing until the sun burns your eyes as you emerge from whatever dark after party cave you crawled into.

When I get depressed, I day dream about DEMF. When my heart is breaking, I think about DEMF. When work makes me want to walk into traffic, I tell myself DEMF is only a few months away. I will work on Christmas, Thanksgiving, and New Years just to get that weekend off. DEMF helped me realize I didn't need that abusive relationship I was in. It was there that I cut and cauterized that malignant growth I call my ex. DEMF was the last time I got to see Amber before she passed away. Hart plaza during that weekend is my sanctuary.

So now I'm torn. Her wedding is the first day of the festival. I'll make it home in time to catch the after parties if I dip out immediately after the reception. It all gets so complicated because my heart is not in it for her. I'll be there, but I'll be so sad. So sad I'm missing the festivities of the first day of the festivals 10 yr anniversary. That guarantees party kid enthusiasm all across the board. Oh God help me, it pains my heart to think I'll be 5 brutal hours from my city.

If I could go back in time, I'd kick Tiffany and Luke in the ass. Kick 'em hard. Some how move their wedding date to the 26th, 27th even! That way I wouldn't have to rush to pack the car after a weeks worth of camping and race back to make it to the after parties. This means I have to pack the night before the wedding. I'm going to be so distracted the whole day. I'm not going to have an appetite or the spirit. Dear god help me if I have to listen to rock 'n roll for a millisecond longer that I have to.

Fortune cookie wisdom

Oh boyfriend troubles. Happens to most of us and the best of us don't it? That's excluding the strict hetero-males out there. I don't know how it got into my skull that I was special enough to be exempt from it. I suppose it's that sense of self-entitlement I've nurtured in the sunny patch of my secret garden. Funny the way we savor the fruits of self-imposed delusions.

"Oh, that will never happen to me ...

BECAUSE I WILL DIP AND SPLIT AT THE SLIGHTEST SIGN OF TROUBLE"

That's right folks. When the going (or the loving) gets tough, I get gone. Unless it's the right kind of "tough" loving I like. We know what I'm getting at. See, I've never been dumped before. Except for that one time, which gets diluted by the string of break-up-make-up that summed up a juvenile relationship I ended permanently (two years later). A large part of that has to do with the fact that I will see myself out the door long before I can establish emotional bonds. Without a moments notice nor hesitation. Ok, that's the whole reason I've never been dumped before. Or it could be that I'm just a secret siren who captivates the integrity of men and they just can't leave. right.

To the unaided eye, you could say most girls have a beating heart. Me? I've traded mine in for a canary in a cage. Got it off a coal miner who quit the trade. Figured it'd save my life one day. Because oh, the way it hurts! To be cheated out of sincerity. Right when you thought to yourself "I've finally found some security". But it just ain't the truth. It seems some of us just don't hold the same values. They're just a sweetheart dealer in it for the fame. They've been doing it since they were knee high to a grasshopper, addicted to the game. So, don't blame me for taking out a full coverage insurance policy. With all the dogs roaming these empty streets, you'd be a fool not to take some drastic measures to ensure the protection of your private property. i.e. your heart.

Still, I'm not quite convinced I've auctioned the whole organ away. Call me a sentimental creature but I've saved a piece to peek at on rainy days. Just the ragged corner end to remind me that one day I'll meet someone who'll work with what's left. Since the scraps are all I've got to bargain with. I've looked for the missing pieces long enough from the ones who took them, ate them raw and shit them out. All the wishing won't get those pieces back, they're as good as fertilizer anyways. Sure, this heart might be broken and torn from use, but I'll cut you a honest deal I hope won't get refused.

They day you think no one can touch you will be the moment they wreck your sorry ass. I learned that being a tough cookie means never crumbling, but who really wants to eat that cookie? The one that's been left out longer than the rest of the package to dry up by it's lonesome. It's not a tasty morsel. Rather, it's more savory to be that soft 'n chewy and in this case a little nutty