So I think I have finally recovered, and I will be sending one embossed glossy thank you card to a Mr. George Michael!
The fact that I chose to spend two of my back-to-back September weekends participating in the nuptials of two couples for which I have dear affection had an effect on me that I really hadn't anticipated. Ok let's just cut the shit, it was ROUGH! I know that sounds terrible, especially since both weddings were actually incredibly well executed, classy, romantic affairs where I definitely enjoyed myself, but the following week after the final wedding I just wasn’t my normal active self. I'm sure Garrett would disagree, since on the outside I was my normal list making, cruise directing, calendar obsessed self--trying to coordinate 500 things into every free minute of the next few months--but honestly, I just wasn't feeling like me. It was clear that I needed something to bring me back to the animated, excitable, easy-going-with-a-side-of-crazy gal that I normal enjoy being.
Discovering the genesis for my energy drain certainly wasn’t finding the cure for cancer. The middle of September had me pinned under a heavy workload Monday through Friday, and the stress involved in being a bridesmaid should seriously be right up there with death, divorce, and taxes. Throw in some inconvenient car trouble, and the incredibly painful onset of a clearly ill-timed kidney infection were all factors that lead to this wedding hangover, for sure! (Note to Kidney: If you ever do that to me again, there will be SERIOUS consequences. I'm talking hotel bathtubs, ice cubes, and ebay. Do you hear me?) A normal person might think a few extra Zs, an expertly prescribed cocktail of antibiotics, cranberry juice, and maybe just a day off work might do the trick. But the thing is, you'd be wrong. Actually the cure-all for life's woes comes courtesy of a little band called Wham!
Beginning much like any other weekend, Saturday morning found Garrett and I walking down to Peet’s for our much needed beverages of choice and to the J Street Noah’s bagels to stuff our hungover faces. After a hearty helping of carbohydrates and people watching, we headed over to The Beat to browse and finish our coffee, and it was here that I was reunited with a dear, dear friend.
With the intention of finding The Faint's remix album, maybe some Imogen Heap, and anything else that tickled our fancies, I came across the Wham! Album “Songs From The Edge Of Heaven.” To make it even sweeter -- it was in the $7.99 bargain bin. Needless to say my excitement level went through the roof. The album came out in 1986, and it was on heavy rotation in my bedroom’s hot pink boom box. Just looking at the cover filled my head with that overly produced homo-erotic synth-pop that had characterized a huge part of my life long before I was even old enough to contemplate the implication of George Michael's hot pink shorts. Saddened by the fact that Garrett couldn’t accompany me when I began to recite ‘Wham! Rap 86’, and wanting so desperately to relive my experience with ‘Last Christmas”-- you know, before it became a ubiquitous retail anthem heard annually while sifting through displays of Gap scarves, or gift packs at Victoria’s secret during the Holidays —- I immediately knew I had to have it. With an unsure but curious look on his face, my delicious boyfriend (continuing to spoil me as he did for some reason all weekend) purchased this album that had me off in my own giddy-land, and it was to the car we rolled…
…And listened. And once again, the curious look appeared on Garrett’s face as I played for him these anthems of my youth. Though he knew about Wham!, because he is 3 years younger he didn't have that same instant nostalgia. It was hysterical to hear these kitschy homosexual manifestos and think about how they must have originally sounded. It was like I had always, yet never, remembered it. How did I not know? I enjoyed every cheesy minute though, and when I got to Wham! Rap ’86, and belted out every ridiculous word —I had the realization that I had enjoyed this album 20 years ago! 20 YEARS AGO! It was mind boggling to be totally honest.
With my 28th birthday coming up this weekend it’s surely not that big of a deal to have enjoyed something 20 years ago, but it gave me pause for a second. I reflected, as I often do before my birthday-- and yes, with Wham! playing in the background, thank you very much— and I realized with the cutest boy in the world sitting next to me, that I am blissfully happy. I’m as blissfully happy as I was singing Wham! songs into the mirror on the back of my bedroom door when I was 8. I’m sure I don’t acknowledge it to him as often as I should, but I am so lucky that I have a boyfriend who loves me in all of my ridiculous juvenile glory. Who will buy me cheesy cds and fabulous bottles of wine all in a 24 hour time period. Who will sleep next to me when I am ridiculously drunk and emotional, and still tell me I look beautiful in my greasy ponytail the next day over bagels. It was that kind of love that I hoped for when I was just a wee Wham! fan fantasizing about my future with super hottie, George Michael — you know but with less hot pink shorts and indecent bathroom behavior.