It feels so weird to me that I woke up, and all of the sudden I’m in my mid-twenties. I’m sure this feeling repeats every ten years, and I will probably always feel caught off guard. Thirty-five, forty-five, fifty-five… and on and on, always wondering how I ended up so perfectly in the middle. At twenty-five, I looked down to see the tattoo on my ankle of the yin yang symbol, has significantly faded since I spontaneously got it at the age of eighteen. I also notice the misspelled tattoo on my shoulder that I got that same year, has not faded in the slightest. Cue the song “That’s Life” by Frank Sinatra. THAT’S LIFE! That misspelled tattoo is always the conversation piece, never the aesthetic eighteen-year-old Libby hoped for. It will always be funny, to me- which is probably the only reason I never got it covered up. It is a constant reminder that I really like that version of myself, who was wild and stupid enough to fuck up so permanently. I like who I grew into as well. Big fuck ups at eighteen let you be gentle and humorous at twenty-five. Although…. I don’t know if I needed a bad back tattoo to achieve those attributes… I would not encourage my poor choices. Just reflect with me.
Speaking of poor choices…
My birthday was on April 29th. I was reminded once again how lucky I am to be loved by the people in my life. I was also reminded that given the opportunity to do something rash… I will. My day was perfectly scattered with good food, drinks, and friends. My sweet little home of Moscow, Idaho opened its arms to celebrate with me. Mimosas, ring shopping, and piercing shops…. Maybe it was the fuzzy joy that too many mimosas can induce, but I was feeling festive. 25 was starting out with a jaunt around town with my best friends. As I passed in and out of shops that are staples of Moscow, I quite literally stumbled into a tattoo and piercing shop. In an act of true mid-twenties-life-crisis desperation… I got my belly and septum pierced. Although I think piercings are beautiful, and personal. I did it because I was trying to hold onto something youthful. My doughy belly now adorns diamonds that really emphasize… I AM 25. This was an act of desperation, for me. I am not knocking the piercings. I just think I did it as a “WOOOO I’M STILL YOOOOUNG” moment. My friend Sidney quickly sobered up to the piercing situation, and hers stayed in for a whole 24 hours. Reilly and I are still rocking this rash choice bling. I don’t know how long it will last.
Moscow in the spring is a breath of fresh air. As I prepare to move out of Moscow by the end of this summer, I can’t help but take in all that there is to this piece of home. Today was the Moscow Renaissance Fair. The warmth and weirdness of the Moscow Ren Fair is a familiarity that travels back to my childhood. Face paintings as a little girl, to introducing the experience to my friends from out of town, in college. I love the community and art in Moscow during this time of year. Today was a unique Ren Fair because of Covid. It wasn’t held at the usual East City Park. The festivities were held downtown on Main Street. The familiarity of Moscow’s artistic celebrations was a welcomed comfort. We rolled in a little late to the Ren Fair, but made a point to sit outside and enjoy some food and music. A small gathering of usual suspects collected right in front of where we sat. I watched as a plethora of tie dye and instruments mingled together. A man who stood out in the crowd for his lack of tie dye banged on a translucent drum that had faded sharpie writing out “SEE HOW WE ARE”. How very Moscow. Two Ladies in there early 60s danced separately, on opposite sides of the gathering. They both were decked out in purple tie dye and danced fluidly through groups of people. They looked like two versions of the same person. I watched as they danced closer and closer, until finally they saw each other. They rushed to greet each other, while the maracas and tambourines they held rattled in their embrace. It made a lot of sense to me that they were friends. All of this will be missed when I move away. I think every city has a unique rhythm, and I can’t wait to sit back and enjoy something new. I just soak in days like today, and really love where I grew up. 25 is going to be a year of new rhythm! As I end this blog, I have attached a pic of my new nose bling. Be gentle with me, I’m still healing from these new piercings haha.
Libby Anne Groseclose