When I was a little kid, I think the hardest thing for me to deal with was the secret lives the older kids seemed to have. I would have to go to bed, and my brothers and sister would be up and about, doing whatever mysterious rituals they were allowed when I was alone in my exile.

From my bed I would lie awake hearing the dragging of chairs to the table or TV shows foreign only to me because of their broadcast time or the music from one brother’s forbidden, untouchable stereo system. I would lie still and concentrate on the noises trying to discern what I was missing, what world was passing me by and would forever remain a mystery.

I still have trouble with the feeling that something is going on without me.

Tonight, my attention was where it should be and where I wanted it to be, getting ready for M.’s return to Cambridge. I had some cleaning to do, towels to put out, a shower to take, cream and coffeee to buy. (You don’t ever want to spend wonderful quality time with M. sans caffeine. Just ain’t pretty.) And, of course, there was the nervous anticipation, free-floating anxiety, happiness, fear, more happiness, more inexplicable nervousness, and general neurotic vortex to live in my own little head. (I like to suck the joy out of fun events with excessive worry, it really allows you to focus in a zen kind of way. OK, not zen really, what’s the word…um… fucked up, yeah that’s it. Fucked up.)

Really, though, I was happy toiling around my apartment to make sure he felt welcome in his return.

But, at the same time, friends of mine were going to be rocking the house at this particular upscale establishment with their own comedy show. Along for the ride were some of my favorite performers from around town. I swung by the hotel in the afternoon and already about 10 people had gathered to start preparing for the show, which would have stand-up, video, traditional sketches, and many, many seemingly unplanned “distractions.” Besides the planned flash mob, unplanned flesh mob, a wedding DJ, the thing I wanted to see was the staged fight from two audience members. I’ve seen them before, a man and a woman, incredibly physical with a lot of fake blood.

Afterward, the plan was to party in the hotel room given by the hotel to the night’s performers.

The part of me that always listened for what the older kids were doing, wonders how the show and afterparty were.