Working on My Vertical Jump
My amazing friend Allison somehow managed to land us 4th row tickets for the American Idol concert Tuesday night. 4th Row. Meaning, we are on the side of the smaller, lower level of the stage. Meaning, our seats are actually elevated. OMG.
Let the freak out begin.
4TH ROW, PEOPLE. Do you understand what this means? This means Adam might sweat on us. He might make eye contact. We might get hit in the back of the head by handcuffs, dildos, and bras.
THIS MEANS I AM GOING TO LAUNCH MYSELF ON STAGE LIKE MISS PIGGY AND GRAB ONTO HIS SNAKESKIN BOOTS AND NEVER LET GO.
I am honestly worried. Really. I don't THINK I'll do something stupid. Not, like, the kind of stupid that it will get me slapped with a restraining order, but stupid as in I'll look like an idiot in front of Adam and everyone sitting around me? Yeah. That might happen. For example, maybe all I'll be able to do is sob when he's onstage. Or I might throw the Extra Long Twizzlers at his face. Or I might pee a little.
NONE OF WHICH IS GOOD. Maybe I just shouldn't go and not risk it?
Maintain, Laura. Maintain.
In other news, Cassidy Haley's cd is awesome. And not just cause he's one of the Glitter God's pretty, angel-like playthings - erm, I mean, friends - either. He's a good writer, and the music has awesome beats and it's darker than what I expected. And you all know how I love dark. Dark. Uh huh. You know what I'm talking about.
MOVING ON.
I hate Adam Lambert sometimes. Like when he decides to casually mention a song that is MY SECRET by an artist who is also MY SECRET. And he'll make it popular by association. I'm very jealous and possessive of my music. Back off, Lambert. Casually mentioning the amazingness that is Robyn and her beautiful song Eclipse in an interview is breaking the First Rule. That song is like a bajillion little writing prompts and it is MINE. In fact, her whole CD is awesome.
Annnnnd...I'm done.
Let the freak out begin.
4TH ROW, PEOPLE. Do you understand what this means? This means Adam might sweat on us. He might make eye contact. We might get hit in the back of the head by handcuffs, dildos, and bras.
THIS MEANS I AM GOING TO LAUNCH MYSELF ON STAGE LIKE MISS PIGGY AND GRAB ONTO HIS SNAKESKIN BOOTS AND NEVER LET GO.
I am honestly worried. Really. I don't THINK I'll do something stupid. Not, like, the kind of stupid that it will get me slapped with a restraining order, but stupid as in I'll look like an idiot in front of Adam and everyone sitting around me? Yeah. That might happen. For example, maybe all I'll be able to do is sob when he's onstage. Or I might throw the Extra Long Twizzlers at his face. Or I might pee a little.
NONE OF WHICH IS GOOD. Maybe I just shouldn't go and not risk it?
Maintain, Laura. Maintain.
In other news, Cassidy Haley's cd is awesome. And not just cause he's one of the Glitter God's pretty, angel-like playthings - erm, I mean, friends - either. He's a good writer, and the music has awesome beats and it's darker than what I expected. And you all know how I love dark. Dark. Uh huh. You know what I'm talking about.
MOVING ON.
I hate Adam Lambert sometimes. Like when he decides to casually mention a song that is MY SECRET by an artist who is also MY SECRET. And he'll make it popular by association. I'm very jealous and possessive of my music. Back off, Lambert. Casually mentioning the amazingness that is Robyn and her beautiful song Eclipse in an interview is breaking the First Rule. That song is like a bajillion little writing prompts and it is MINE. In fact, her whole CD is awesome.
Annnnnd...I'm done.