And let that blog post title not be a reflection of my complete and utter enjoyment of last night's musical festivities. Nay. I just woke up this morning and realized, I needed this concert to be over.
So I can get on with my life.
It's actually very hard work being that obsessed with anything. Borders on exhausting, really.
And for one who can write paragraphs about such riveting fare as, say, cheese, i will keep my comments brief and to the point.
Being in the front row is the coolest feeling ever. For every time i wished i was a cool kid in the 7th grade, last night made up for ALL of them. Every single one.
Neil and I did not make a single ounce of meaningful eye contact, and I'm actually okay with this fact. No, really. I did have one moment with Nick Seymour, the bass player, while they were riffing on Canadian things, and Nick needed to know a Loverboy song, and I shouted: "Workin' for the Weekend," and he pointed at me and repeated it back to me, in a very, a-ha sort of manner.
That was my one degree of separation.
And get this: they allowed you to bring your digital SLRs. Don't even get me started. Alas…I will choose NOT to live a life of regret. (That means no, I didn't have mine with me.)
The side story of the night? Dan, roughly 2 hours prior to our departure, twisted his knee something AWFUL while playing soccer with the guys. He could barely walk at the show. Trooper that he is, I got him set up with wine and Advil, and he was as good to go as he could possibly be, minus using crutches. (Which honestly? He needed them.)
Okay…i'm going to try and go back to my normal life now. You know, the one where I'll go OFF at the slightest provocation as it relates to iPhones.
In other words, the regular octane spazzy me is back.
And in case you're wondering, I'm in pink: (thanks, Jen!)