The Grand Finale, or I'm Too Old for This Shit

And so it is that all good things must come to an end. This is the tone for this last piece of Bougie on a Budget. If you have a hard time with goodbyes, better do a Google search for something a little more your speed.

Ricky Diamond has left the building. He moved back to Gloucester, Massachusetts just 2 weeks ago. He told me the news a few weeks back, on a trip to get fried chicken from Church’s in Paramore, just like old times. The talk of the move was nestled somewhere between comments on how we missed the grits at Pom Pom’s Teahouse and Nancy Grace’s head exploding from the acquittal of Casey Anthony. I quickly segwayed the conversation to reliving the night a light bulb exploded inside of Church’s and sounded like a gunshot, and to our surprise nobody flinched.

I’m glad that Ricky went off in search to make a better life. Orlando couldn’t handle the kooky antics of this performer, and now that he and Danny have created Diamond Dolls he has some real potential. He just needs to find a more open audience and the right person to get their hands on the demo. Unlike so many other people who are not around these days, either by intense falling outs, mental illness, or simply losing touch, Ricky Diamond will always be more than a misunderstood artist with good intentions, one of the major contributors to my life here in Orlando, and a best friend named Paul.

And he will be back, so I won’t remorse too much here.

The following weekend after Paul’s departure, Collin and I actually made it out to Independent Bar downtown- the scene of so many memories and even a few of these posts. My childhood friend Courtney was celebrating her 25th birthday, and since I ended up blacked out during my own I will grace this blog with a recount of hers. I knew things would be different, since I rarely make it out here anymore, but I didn’t know how shell-shocked the whole night would make me. I was prepared to show my ID to some new kid working the door now that I had dropped my Regular status. The dancefloor wasn’t quite as filled as it used to be, and I chuckled as I told Collin that the soundtrack was comfortingly the same. But then I took a sip of the whiskey and cranberry I ordered at the bar and grimaced as a flavor that I predominantly remember in my vomit filled my mouth. Kids that looked at least 8 years younger bumped and shoved past me. I recognized the faces, but none of them recognized me. As I tried to manage another sip I thought, “I’m not drunk enough for this shit.”

We found Courtney and her friends that came with her from New Smyrna Beach by the front bar. It was endearing how overdressed they were in strapless dresses and longsleeve shirts amongst a sea of boys wearing girls’ jeans and ballet flats that have walked the streets too many nights. Courtney was ecstatic, and we eagerly bellied up to the bar for a few rounds of birthday shots. Then I saw Johnny, a face I had come to count on seeing wherever there was good music and ecstasy. We embraced in a full-force hug, and I immediately knew something was different: Johnny was sober. He looked great, perfectly coiffed as usual. He said he had graduated school and was moving to Brooklyn in a few weeks. He looked like he had never been happier.

A few minutes later, I ran into Marvin, a breakdancer that I became friends with when I started hanging out at parties like Crush and I Like it Raw before Fusian Sushi shut down. We chatted long enough for me to find out that he was doing great, and was moving in to his own place in a few weeks. He slipped off into the crowd the way he always did after just a few sentences; a lanky, nearly 7-foot-tall figure cloaked in black much like a shadow, and I rejoined my group out on the dancefloor.

The typical shenanigans ensued. Songs that we recognized came on and we’d stay on the floor. Songs that we were hearing for the first time came on and we weren’t feeling pushed us off it and up to the bar. A random kid kept on creeping up to either Courtney or myself- whomever was closer- and would try to make a pass despite seeing me holding Collin’s hand, Courtney dancing with the guy she has been seeing, and me flat out telling him that she and I were with someone and not interested. I even tried to tell him I was too old for him, since I spotted black X’s on his hands, but to no avail. Courtney’s date Cliff eventually went up to the kid, kissed him on the cheek, and said that was the most action he would be seeing all night.

At some point later on I headed to a bathroom I once had become far too familiar with. As I washed my hands, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. For once the person staring back was in focus. No makeup bleeding under my eyes, my hair still looking somewhat like it did when I left the house. My black tunic held to my more toned frame, and I sipped the gin and tonic I was partial to. I smiled, said, “I’m too old for this shit,” and walked out.

My friend Dave was on my way back to the dancefloor, his mass of curly blond hair pulled back into a tight bun high atop his head. Not too long after he and I became friends, he started working at IBar as a bouncer. The usual conversation of how we were doing commenced, and I found out he was working at the Y as a swim instructor for children on top of his night job, which was no surprise given his background as a youth camp counselor. Dave is one of those rare guys that you find in this world who doesn’t get his kicks from partying- he’s high on life and a night out dancing, he has a good outlook on life, and he genuinely enjoys giving back to the world. If you’re ever at IBar, find him and strike up a conversation.

I told him about my own few highlights, namely how I was giving up the condo downtown to move in with the boyfriend. His eyes widened and he smiled as he took in the seriousness of Collin and I’s relationship. I found myself rambling, “Remember that night you and I went out to Backbooth? My friend Megan came, and she brought him, and we all hung out? It was a Saturday night, and afterwards we went back to Megan’s after, and we thought we saw the ghost in the room next door, and Megan and Collin didn’t see it! Then you and I went back to my place and we stayed up till 4 or 5 in the morning chatting on my couch… Yeah… That was the first night I met him.” Dave smiled, gave me a hug, and said he had to make his rounds. I looked at my shuffling feet, smiling, and realized I was making the right move.

I did see Johnny again at one point. He and one of his hipster friends that I remember him paling around with were on the dancefloor. He sauntered over just as “Skeleton Boy” by Friendly Fires came on- the song that Paul and I danced to the first night we ran into each other at IBar. Every time I hear it, I think of him, me, and the sense that I finally had made a friend in Orlando. It wasn’t the last song I heard that night, but it will always stick with me the soundtrack of the beginning and now the end. Just listen to the lyrics. What a song to close with.


The end.

The Kids Aren't Alright

A little piece of my hope for humanity died Saturday night: Some indie kid spitting in the face of a Holy Roller last night downtown and calling him a f*cking f*ggot. Hypocrisy, table for 1? I hope you're riding that bike you were on one day, saving the world from pollutants, and you get hit by a gas-guzzling Mack truck.

I just believe in people's rights to peaceful freedom of speech... And if you want someone to respect why you wear skinny jeans that are cutting off the circulation to your nutsack, don't wash the hair that is growing down to your mountain-man beard, and cover yourself in tattoos then you should respect their belief that you're going to hell in a handbasket.

I know that we’re in a recession, but come on people: why the violence? I have nothing against the indie kids in this town- don't get me wrong. I wish I could sport my body art, instead of having to cover it up for Corporate America, and stomach PBRs. I envy the way the girls can wear their high-wasted skirts and tank tops, and I just look like a dumpy sack of potatoes in mine. And damn it, how the hell do they all stay so skinny?! But apparently no one sent me the memo that if you play ‘Kids’ by MGMT backwards you can hear Satan telling you to beat up on people. Is that why there are now shootings at I-Bar, and the ‘free-thinkers’ are throwing fisticuffs?

Either way, College Indie Night at Independent Bar is still my favorite night of the week.

New Digs!

Thank God for Twitter!! The past few weeks have been non-stop craziness and if it wasn’t for my ability to update the world on my antics through 140-character blurbs then I would be denying everyone of awesome cheap things to do around Orlando. And that’s just selfish!

So anyways, I’m sitting here on the couch in my brand new apartment with a fresh cup of coffee. Yes, its almost 2:30p but I’m still enjoying breakfast (eaten long after noon…). Last night was great and I’m sure I’ll see photos of me all over SmileForCamera.com in a day or two. Independent Bar was great last night- can’t beat free cover till 1 and $3 mixed drinks till midnight, and the DJ that plays all my favorite indie rock songs!

Yes, I did say new apartment, and its positively bad ass! I have a new game plan for Year 2 of living in the real world. Last year I lived with Eric, my boyfriend at the time. We had our shabby-chic apartment in Casselberry, complete with roof leaks and all! Not sure if I posted it or not, but Eric lost his job at Circuit City. Add that with the fact that he never really grew to like living in Orlando, so he decided when our lease was up in mid-June he would move back to Ormond Beach with his family. Totally understandable J However, it left me in a predicament because I couldn’t exactly afford living on my own on top of paying things like student loans and not have a cozy corner on South OBT… So, around April I crafted the new plan of action:

All the cool kids seem to be doing it- Going back to school to defer their student loans! Whether you’re going for your Masters, a second bachelors, or just screwing around on the community college level, taking part-time classes (usually 6 credit hours a semester) will qualify your loans for an education deferment. For me, since I’d like to put my 4 years of French in high school to good use (and because one day working for Conde Nast would be pretty cool, so this might be a requisite), I’m studying French at Valencia Community College. I chose the 2^nd level beginning class since its been a little while since I’ve used vocabulary outside of a gastronomical context (i.e. fois gras, crème brulée, etc…). So far, I’m having fun with it! I’m also making A’s on pretty much anything, so even when I’m having a bad week at work I can still say that I have something boosting my ego. My second class is Abnormal Psych- something that I wanted to take in college but I never got the chance to after I completed my required Intro class. I just had my first class the other day, and I really think I’m going to like it. Only problem is that the class is over in 6 weeks, so I think I would have enjoyed it more if it was spread out over a full semester and not condensed over the summer, and also its going to make things pretty stressful. It’ll be fun, none the less!

So with an extra $600-something dollars in my bank account every month due to not having to make the loans payments, I can finally start to chip away at my credit card debt. Granted, putting your loans into deferment is going to make the payments go up significantly since you’re just earning more and more interest rather than paying things off, but for right now its what I have to do. Besides, the credit card carries something like 30% interest where as none of my loans are over 10%... Which would you pay of first??

Secondly, I moved! I met up with a really fantastic UCF student name Chris and we really hit it off. He was looking for someone mid-June, which was right when I needed to move out. The new place is ten times nicer than my last place, and still about $200 cheaper to live here than to stay in my old place. I do live all the way out by UCF now, so I have about an extra 20 minutes tacked on to anywhere I drive. It really doesn’t bother me, though, except on Fridays when I just want to get home but I have to deal with the brake-slamming traffic on Aloma between Semoran and Chapman. That gets old quick!

But aside from saving lots of money by living with another person (other than a significant other), I’m also making a new friend and meeting new people. We have a lot in common and one of those things is hitting the various parties around town. Chris and I went to the Good Look party held at The Beacon in Thornton Park a week or two ago- It sadly might be the last Good Look party, since The Beacon is slated to close soon. We got our photos taken by SmileForCamera.com, and hung out with Ricky Diamond (who I’m hoping is reading this right now and smiling, since he was supposed to look this blog up because he loved the name!) Last night, a group of us went to IBar for College Indie Night, which is always a blast! They also played a good bit of Michael Jackson in honor of the King of Pop’s passing. Tonight I think it will be Back Booth for Midnight Mass- No cover till for those of us who are 21 and up, and there is free beer till the keg floats! I’m not a beer drinker myself, so I’ll be sure to pregame it at Big Belly Brewery with Lauren from French class. BBB has a great deal from 10:30p-11:30p, so get there early!! Its 3-4-1’s on your basic mixed drinks. However, I took out my friend Eric M. for his 21^st the other week and taught him how to order at the bar. Tips I gave him included sticking to 1 bartender if at all possible, tipping well to establish report and a heavy hand, and letting them know, ‘Hey! I just turned 21!’ Although Eric M. was reluctant at first, it served him well and he got 7 Jaeger-amaretto-cokes (tastes like Dr. Pepper!!) all for the low, low price of 2 drinks J Yes, count them- 7 DRINKS! And Jaeger is usually not on that list of liquors that you can do 3-4-1 with.

Got any bar tips?? Post them!! Happy weekending!!!