(no subject)
Every spring, I am reminded subtly (and not so subtly) that I am, have been, and always will be a hopeless fangirl.
Yum.
Holy balls. Please consider the fact that I have had this photo hanging out in a tiny corner of my desktop where I can see it at all times for two days.
I feel so wretched about it. I've always felt kind of weird and creepery spending my time ogling photos of random (usually relatively obscure) celebri-dudes. I feel even creepier about doing this with Paul because... it's Paul. I've kinda-sorta-not really-but-in-a-stretch-of-a-way met him. At least, we were in the same room, an arm's length apart, politely said hello, and then drifted away to other things. I still look at that moment (it was a year ago today) and look out at the universe and sort of shout "That's all I get?!?"
So, naturally, I am spending my one-year anniversary of not-quite-meeting Paul and embarrassingly fangirling in front of Richard Z K, of all people (Because the last member of this band that I'm particularly inclined to fangirl over, at least in this decade, is RZK. ), posting horrifically attractive photos all over the internet and drooling on myself.
Instead of going on the typical tirade that I am so fond of, the one where I wonder aloud (and embarrassingly) how I'm ever going to pull of the herculean feat of putting myself on the same plane as these people, or hoping like hell I get just so lucky, or some combination thereof, I'm going to simply say this:
I always turn my thoughts in this direction in the spring. I only listen to Rammstein in the warm months of the year. Fall and winter have Goldfrapp and Ladytron and Roxy Music, but Rammstein always has my spring.
Yum.
Holy balls. Please consider the fact that I have had this photo hanging out in a tiny corner of my desktop where I can see it at all times for two days.
I feel so wretched about it. I've always felt kind of weird and creepery spending my time ogling photos of random (usually relatively obscure) celebri-dudes. I feel even creepier about doing this with Paul because... it's Paul. I've kinda-sorta-not really-but-in-a-stretch-of-a-way met him. At least, we were in the same room, an arm's length apart, politely said hello, and then drifted away to other things. I still look at that moment (it was a year ago today) and look out at the universe and sort of shout "That's all I get?!?"
So, naturally, I am spending my one-year anniversary of not-quite-meeting Paul and embarrassingly fangirling in front of Richard Z K, of all people (Because the last member of this band that I'm particularly inclined to fangirl over, at least in this decade, is RZK. ), posting horrifically attractive photos all over the internet and drooling on myself.
Instead of going on the typical tirade that I am so fond of, the one where I wonder aloud (and embarrassingly) how I'm ever going to pull of the herculean feat of putting myself on the same plane as these people, or hoping like hell I get just so lucky, or some combination thereof, I'm going to simply say this:
I always turn my thoughts in this direction in the spring. I only listen to Rammstein in the warm months of the year. Fall and winter have Goldfrapp and Ladytron and Roxy Music, but Rammstein always has my spring.