Understand I'm Talking to the Walls
FIRST OFF this is a Harry Styles post.
Secondly, I'm aboslutely going to write about other things too so that's a lie but I'mma start with Harry.
Once upon a time, Kendra and I tried to get into One Direction. We got that DVD from the Redbox and we were ready for this to be our new Peter Pan thing. Welp, all I remember all these years later was how much that Zayn (the hot brown one, as I liked to call him) seemed to hate his life. Also, they were all pretty ugly except maybe Harry. I could see why the kids liked him.
Fast forward to me standing in line for 3 hours for tickets to see Harry perform solo at the Troubadour.
Hold on, back up. Right around the last 1D album I got into them. But I only got super into about 20 songs from their entire discography. I did the same with Zayn's solo...about 5 songs are great and the rest I don't need at all. So, with 1D, the songs I like I fucking LOVE. They are the best songs I have ever heard - and then the rest can go missing into the obyss becaue idgaf. Honestly, "Fireproof" (which happens to be Jack's favorite are you fucking kidding me) and "What a Feeling" are everything. They are fucking everything and I love them so much.
So, a month before, Frances tells me Harry is playing the Troub and she's only telling me and one other friend. It's a big deal. I'm down for the sake of knowing this is going to be a big deal whether I really give that many fucks about Harry at all.
And then, the album dropped.
This fucking album. I love it so much. It's so cool to go into something with, honest to god, ZERO expectations, and come out being head over heals enthralled. Now, I enjoyed the first 2 singles enough, although "Sign of the Times" was a bit boring, the overall message was beautiful and poingnant. Part of me was pushed towards him because of the people I have to be around a lot (coworkers, mostly) wanting to be haters. But I am madly in love with the album. From start to finish, perfection.
The show was a huge secret. At one point Frances said it was on par with the Guns'n'Roses show they did last year. The day after the album was released Harry did a show in London. A tweet from his account went out at 8am the day of with ticket info - which was going to the venue immidiately to buy a ticket. With Troub, due to a lot of red tape City of Weho stuff, they had to sell tickets at Amoeba.
She can't get even 1 single person in. So, she gives us all the info to get ourselves in.
My ass took a whole damn day off work and had to stand with a bunch of 1D crazy kids but for $20 had one of the most fun and memorable nights of my life. Truly.
They only sold 150 tickets and the rest were guestlist/industry. To be on the floor with that few people made the show feel even tinier. And the kid is amazing. Unless he decides to get real weird, he's got a legendary career ahead of him. Legendary. And I'm so happy I got to be in that crowd. I genunitely think it's going to be a story I tell the rest of my life.
In the middle of the set, Stevie fucking Nicks comes out to do his song, "Two Ghosts," oblig "Landslide," and jesus christ "Leather and Lace." tbh I went to the bathroom and bar during "Leather and Lace" BUT STILL fuck.
Also, this whole time, our friend Ashley is buying me drinks and we start tequila shots, since Frances has offered to take me home, as we might have to go to his afterparty. So I'm drunk. And honestly, I wouldn't have had it any other way because I had a blast and it relaxes me.
We get through the set with little incident. At some point I realize his bulge in these tight, gold glitter bell bottoms is some real good shit. He makes eye contact with me during "Only Angel" and I fucking DIE. Life is amazing.
Frances takes me, Ashley and her friend upstairs to the "afterparty." There is free pizza, it's open bar, it's everything I've ever wanted. I'm already drunk but I'm drinking more. Now, the difference between drunk me and sober me is the social factor. The sound guy comes and sits with us and I chat up a storm with him. Unfortunately, he never asked Frances for my number the way the security guy did.
We go downstairs, hang out, and then Frances rushes us back upstairs. Since I'm drunk I have no idea where any info is coming from but she's good to guide us. We go back upstairs, see Harry but aren't freaking out at all, and one of his people come up to us telling us to leave. I know Frances got fucking fierce, yelling back at him about how she works there and belongs there. He finally leaves and we go stand in a corner, not bothering anyone, but the booker (a new amazing one, not the ho who fucked Jack) comes up and tells Frances, quite seriously, we have to go, so we do. We're downstairs in the bar long enough to do 1 more tequila shot, try to encourage Frances to go back up and have her time because we understand we don't belong, but she's embarrassed at this point, and we all head home.
It was a bit of a damper on a mostly flawless night. I was fully ready to take the cutest photo with Harry the moment we saw him but dashed that from my mind immidiately. It's still a magical night.
And NOW, I'm living for All Time Low. I mean, I have been for literally two entire years, but the newest album has been released and it's great. It's different as hell but it's very good. I've got a lot of thoughts on it, the label, the rollout, but not so mant feelings. And I kind of like that. I still have that space of objectivity with this band.
Also worth mentioning, New Found Glory rolled through and I got to see all their album shows and they were fucking fantastic as well. No band ever makes me as consistantly happy. Frances and I flew to Vegas where we freaked the fucked out about not being barricade and BOUGHT A TABLE with bottle service (byeeee bottle of chardonary before they even started) and I accidentally flung aioly on a guy and he legitimately wanted to fight me.
They did 3 days at Troubadour and that was fantastic and ridiculous and I couldn't ask for anything more. Except I'll see them 3 more times in Novemeber and I am ready A F already.
I definitely do not want to live with Ricky another year but only because my mental health cannot take it. I swear to dive into that further. I want to.
Anyways. Boys still don't like me and I still want Jack's dick.
Secondly, I'm aboslutely going to write about other things too so that's a lie but I'mma start with Harry.
Once upon a time, Kendra and I tried to get into One Direction. We got that DVD from the Redbox and we were ready for this to be our new Peter Pan thing. Welp, all I remember all these years later was how much that Zayn (the hot brown one, as I liked to call him) seemed to hate his life. Also, they were all pretty ugly except maybe Harry. I could see why the kids liked him.
Fast forward to me standing in line for 3 hours for tickets to see Harry perform solo at the Troubadour.
Hold on, back up. Right around the last 1D album I got into them. But I only got super into about 20 songs from their entire discography. I did the same with Zayn's solo...about 5 songs are great and the rest I don't need at all. So, with 1D, the songs I like I fucking LOVE. They are the best songs I have ever heard - and then the rest can go missing into the obyss becaue idgaf. Honestly, "Fireproof" (which happens to be Jack's favorite are you fucking kidding me) and "What a Feeling" are everything. They are fucking everything and I love them so much.
So, a month before, Frances tells me Harry is playing the Troub and she's only telling me and one other friend. It's a big deal. I'm down for the sake of knowing this is going to be a big deal whether I really give that many fucks about Harry at all.
And then, the album dropped.
This fucking album. I love it so much. It's so cool to go into something with, honest to god, ZERO expectations, and come out being head over heals enthralled. Now, I enjoyed the first 2 singles enough, although "Sign of the Times" was a bit boring, the overall message was beautiful and poingnant. Part of me was pushed towards him because of the people I have to be around a lot (coworkers, mostly) wanting to be haters. But I am madly in love with the album. From start to finish, perfection.
The show was a huge secret. At one point Frances said it was on par with the Guns'n'Roses show they did last year. The day after the album was released Harry did a show in London. A tweet from his account went out at 8am the day of with ticket info - which was going to the venue immidiately to buy a ticket. With Troub, due to a lot of red tape City of Weho stuff, they had to sell tickets at Amoeba.
She can't get even 1 single person in. So, she gives us all the info to get ourselves in.
My ass took a whole damn day off work and had to stand with a bunch of 1D crazy kids but for $20 had one of the most fun and memorable nights of my life. Truly.
They only sold 150 tickets and the rest were guestlist/industry. To be on the floor with that few people made the show feel even tinier. And the kid is amazing. Unless he decides to get real weird, he's got a legendary career ahead of him. Legendary. And I'm so happy I got to be in that crowd. I genunitely think it's going to be a story I tell the rest of my life.
In the middle of the set, Stevie fucking Nicks comes out to do his song, "Two Ghosts," oblig "Landslide," and jesus christ "Leather and Lace." tbh I went to the bathroom and bar during "Leather and Lace" BUT STILL fuck.
Also, this whole time, our friend Ashley is buying me drinks and we start tequila shots, since Frances has offered to take me home, as we might have to go to his afterparty. So I'm drunk. And honestly, I wouldn't have had it any other way because I had a blast and it relaxes me.
We get through the set with little incident. At some point I realize his bulge in these tight, gold glitter bell bottoms is some real good shit. He makes eye contact with me during "Only Angel" and I fucking DIE. Life is amazing.
Frances takes me, Ashley and her friend upstairs to the "afterparty." There is free pizza, it's open bar, it's everything I've ever wanted. I'm already drunk but I'm drinking more. Now, the difference between drunk me and sober me is the social factor. The sound guy comes and sits with us and I chat up a storm with him. Unfortunately, he never asked Frances for my number the way the security guy did.
We go downstairs, hang out, and then Frances rushes us back upstairs. Since I'm drunk I have no idea where any info is coming from but she's good to guide us. We go back upstairs, see Harry but aren't freaking out at all, and one of his people come up to us telling us to leave. I know Frances got fucking fierce, yelling back at him about how she works there and belongs there. He finally leaves and we go stand in a corner, not bothering anyone, but the booker (a new amazing one, not the ho who fucked Jack) comes up and tells Frances, quite seriously, we have to go, so we do. We're downstairs in the bar long enough to do 1 more tequila shot, try to encourage Frances to go back up and have her time because we understand we don't belong, but she's embarrassed at this point, and we all head home.
It was a bit of a damper on a mostly flawless night. I was fully ready to take the cutest photo with Harry the moment we saw him but dashed that from my mind immidiately. It's still a magical night.
And NOW, I'm living for All Time Low. I mean, I have been for literally two entire years, but the newest album has been released and it's great. It's different as hell but it's very good. I've got a lot of thoughts on it, the label, the rollout, but not so mant feelings. And I kind of like that. I still have that space of objectivity with this band.
Also worth mentioning, New Found Glory rolled through and I got to see all their album shows and they were fucking fantastic as well. No band ever makes me as consistantly happy. Frances and I flew to Vegas where we freaked the fucked out about not being barricade and BOUGHT A TABLE with bottle service (byeeee bottle of chardonary before they even started) and I accidentally flung aioly on a guy and he legitimately wanted to fight me.
They did 3 days at Troubadour and that was fantastic and ridiculous and I couldn't ask for anything more. Except I'll see them 3 more times in Novemeber and I am ready A F already.
I definitely do not want to live with Ricky another year but only because my mental health cannot take it. I swear to dive into that further. I want to.
Anyways. Boys still don't like me and I still want Jack's dick.