Medieval Jammin and Poetry

I just got in from a long night of poetry and medieval music. Yep, you read that right. I wasn’t going to go out tonight because I had work to do, but I had been looking forward to this poetry thing for a couple of weeks and I knew I would be sad if I didn’t make it out. And I was right. So I got up and went. I didn’t shower. Or do my hair. Or make an attempt at pretty. I just went as is, in my faithful black yoga pants and my trusty purple sweatshirt that I pretty much wear every day. When I got there, a band was doing a sound check. It was just snippets of music but there were a bunch of very interesting instruments on the stage.

I was immediately intrigued. There was a bagpipe and about 20 different kinds of recorders. That’s not what they were really called probably, but in fourth grade, that’s what we called them. Except theirs were made out of wood. And then there were some other guitar like and violin-like instruments and a contraption called a hurdy-gurdy. There was also a bagpipe or maybe it was a bladder pipe. I can’t be sure.

All I know is that I got super duper excited when I saw the instruments and heard the band speaking a different language. So what do I do? I send a text to Flea Market Guy. He had work tonight but he was going to be done right around the time the music was supposed to start. And to my surprise, He said he would come.

I did my poetry thing. It was just a tribute to the guy who started the poetry thing. It went a little something like this (not really poetry, just a little piece of honesty and fun):

Ethan Ruined My Meditation

I’ve been meditating daily. There is really no one thing that you can’t meditate on. At first, I meditated to sleep
Then I meditated to stop my panic attacks
And then I started meditating to manifest a winning lottery ticket and to find my soulmate.

I haven’t won a million dollars yet, and the jury is still halfway out on the guy I met who seems downright perfect.

But… while I was waiting for that perfect guy to appear, I found a meditation for a hands-free orgasm (i can send yall the link).
As I listened intently
Following every instruction he gave me,

It suddenly dawned on me that the voice sounded a lot like Ethan of the Electric Pheasant poetry night.

Which made my hands free orgasm attempt really uncomfortable and made me feel kind of like a cougar

I tried to put his face out of my mind and concentrate on the task at hand…. Well, the task without hands. But it was no use.

So, Ethan, Happy Electric Pheasant Anniversary. Thank you for making poetry night awesome every month, even if you unknowingly ruined my meditation.

(the end)

I thought it was funny. He seemed a little mortified and at a loss for words. My work there was done. So I sat back and watched all the other poets until it was over.

And then the band started. And Flea Market Guy showed up.

And he loved the music.

We both did.

But he really did. So much he even bought a CD. Which I thought was super cool, because now we can dance to medieval music anytime we want to. Not that dancing to medieval music was on the to-do list before tonight, but now it definitely is.

So it turned into a mini date. Even though it wasn’t planned. And it was nice. And I know you are probably getting sick of hearing how great he is so I will spare you (even though he is).

Anyway, tonight was a success. I’m tired and hopefully can wind down enough after that medieval jam session to fall asleep in the very near future. And just in case you’re wondering what the fuck a medieval band sounds like, here’s a video for your viewing pleasure. Keep in mind it was about 2 hours longer and 10x more amazing live. Enjoy if this video will work! If it doesn’t, try my Instagram.

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