the decline of my waistband, and getting older

First, the good news: I went to Target today to buy toilet paper, and I came out with a LOT more than that, including a couple of new shirts and pants that I can wear to work. Well, I am ecstatic to report that since giving up animal products, I am now buying pants from Target that are TWO SIZES SMALLER than the ones I was buying before. So there.

And now for the real story.

My friend Emily called me on Friday while I was in class, and she left me a message about how she’d realized she was getting old. You see, she was to accompany her husband (Nick, of “Beef Supreme” fame) that night to a concert entitled “Taste of Chaos,” which Marieke said she thought sounded a little too gourmet to be the real title. We thought surely it must be “Taste the Chaos,” but no. Apparently, it’s just a sampling of chaos, artfully displayed on a platter.

Anyhoe, Emily called to tell me how she was feeling old because she didn’t know “what the kids are wearing to rock concerts these days.” When she asked Nick what she should wear, he responded with, “Do you have anything with skulls on it?” When she replied that she did not, she said that he just sighed and looked at her as if to say, “What am I supposed to do with you then?”

So she spent much of Friday at the mall, and when I spoke with her later that afternoon, she said that she was “all Hot Topic-ed out.” She began describing her outfit, which consisted of grey leggings, a denim mini-skirt, a shirt from Rave that I can’t really describe, a pink hoodie with crossed pistols up the front, and Chuck Taylors.

At this point in the conversation, I looked over into the car next to me to see my friend Kathryn, whom I had not seen in some months. I asked Emily if I could call her back, and then I started trying to get Kathryn’s attention without running her off the road or into oncoming traffic. She refused to look over at me, though, so I got behind her and called to tell her I was there. As we were laughing about that, I heard a honk come from the car next to me, and I looked over to see Dan waving at me. It was very strange, and I felt as though I were really established in the Raleigh area. I mean, to see two people I know within two minutes while driving through town - that’s how you know you’re a part of the community.

ANYhoe, immediately following all of that (my very own little taste of chaos), I got a picture message from Emily. She’d photographed herself in her outfit and sent it to me. I called her back and here’s the best part of the story:

• Me: Dude, I don’t know if I’d wear those shoes with that outfit.
• Emily: I know! I’m not sure about ‘em either, but when I Googled “What to wear to a rock concert,” that’s what it said!

So maybe not knowing what to wear to a rock concert just makes you not a rocker. Emily will tell you that most of the concerts she’s been to in her lifetime have been the sort where you take a blanket and a sandwich and lie on a lawn somewhere. But Googling what to wear to a rock concert - that might be what shows your age.

I think she ended up wearing the gun hoodie and the Rave shirt with the Chucks and some jeans. And she’s going to wear the skirt and leggings with a cute top and some heels when Nick accompanies her to a Matchbox Twenty/Alanis Morisette concert. Marriage is give-and-take that way.

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