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Archive for January 3rd, 2013

I’m 32

January 03rd, 2013 | Category: Life

So, on my 32nd birthday, the last day of 2012, I woke up with my girlfriend, to her beautiful latte-colored eyes smiling at me. “Happy birthday, Michael Phillips” with a kiss. I was really happy, being with her makes me feel like I’ve won some sort of secret lottery, the good kind, not the kind where you get hit in the face with rocks. Still, I’m me, so I was uneasy too. I’m always uneasy on my birthday, I don’t like getting older, another year nearer to the end of me. I just don’t like it. In my head, I still feel like I’m 27, I still like making love at 2 AM, zombies, Nirvana, goth clubs, dive bars… Physically, I just don’t feel 27, and it bothers me. Okay, absolutely nothing will ever cause me to turn down my lover at 2 AM, but the goth clubs, staying out until last call, I get tired easier than I used to, back when I was 27.

It was going out at night that I was thinking about all day. I wanted to show my love a night out, I wanted to kiss her at midnight in some dark, smokey club, feeling her against me, feeling the music envelope us.

I also woke up tired, and nervous, I wanted us to stay in bed, kissing at midnight under a cozy warm blanket. It was also fucking cold out, another reason not leave my comfy chamber.

So, of course, we went out. Whenever I’m really nervous, and really tired, I always try very hard to do the opposite of doing what’s easy. I’d much rather die on some adventure than in some tiny room.

So, we went out, went to Ybor City, home of my tattoo shop, Doc Dog’s Las Vegas Tattoo, and the best bars and clubs around.

On my birthday, my brother takes me anywhere I want to go, until there’s nowhere left to go, which is spectacular of him. He gives up his New Year’s Eve to give me my birthday.

The tattoo shop was closed, so no new tattoo, but we went to my favorite bar, The Boneyard. Back when I drank, I was a regular. I ran into a pal who’s also a regular, who, along with his lady, was wearing a giant bunny suit for some reason. He had a spare giant bunny suit and offered it to me. Of course, I took it. I mean, what better way to totally turn on your girl than don a giant bunny suit and take her to a goth club? Only one, but it involves vacuum tubes and pulleys, and is a little risqué for this post. So, yeah, I’m 32, on the way to the goth club with my love, my brother, and my good friend, Jimmy, wearing a giant pink bunny suit.

We got to The Castle, this ultra-hardcore goth club, but everyone, especially the stuff, is always totally kind and welcoming. They don’t ask me to leave because of the potential liability caused by me being on a vent in a flat wheel-chair (a lamer bar once threw me out), they make sure I’m comfortable and having fun. Downstairs is kind of mellow, a bar, outdoor dance-floor, but upstairs, upstairs is MAGICAL. Upstairs has crazy swirling lights, fog machines, bizarre art house images projected onto giant screens, fluid goth dancing, go-go girls.

Upstairs has THIS!

The Senator

The Senator

 

Brian (my brother). Jimmy, and me...

Brian (my brother). Jimmy, and me…

To get to all of that, however, I have to get carried, vent, chair, et all, up two flights of precarious stairs, and as we know, I was feeling uneasy. I thought about staying downstairs, having a low-key night. My girlfriend was intrigued by the upstairs, but was nervous about me accidentally dying in getting there. So, we went. I wanted to kiss her under the lights, in the fog. I wanted to show her that we can do anything we want, if we want it. I wanted to show her that I’d go anywhere, do anything, for her.

Midnight ticked by, my 2012 ended with a passionate kiss with a woman I love beyond words.

It was a good birthday.

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