I am getting very excited about Ian's birthday party this weekend. I'm not sure why I'm so excited about someone else's party, but I'm guessing it's because I'm a bad friend.
Let me explain.
The life of a singer is all or nothing. I often profess to be unwilling to give up rest of my life to devote myself to being a singer. In actuality, when I have a gig - or am preparing for one - it often takes over my life. Because of my dearly beloved day job (I am a cog in the machine) I am usually away from home from 7:30am to 11pm daily during a show. It leads little time for friends, family and hygeine, and some things must take precedence. So I am a bad friend. I don't answer emails, I don't answer phone messages, and I'm available in person in a very limited capacity. My friends are fabulous and understand they probably won't see me much for long stretches of time, and still love me when I pop out of the woodwork. But that doesn't make me a better friend.
And now, at the end of March, after recouping from a busy winter season for a month or so, I feel as though I'm just coming out of hibernation and ready to start visiting with the world. So I'm pretty excited about a big birthday bash that isn't even mine, because there will be lots of fun and lovely people. And wine. And a hot tub...clothing optional.