(no subject)
Nineteen years ago, I fell in love with a man and his band.
He wore tight pants, big hair and a cheeky grin and he was the biggest love my short life had witnessed to that point.
As a nine year old, I would dream about the day I would go to his concert and he would spot me out of the crowd and propose marriage and I’d get to live out the rest of my days staring at him while he sang songs to me.
(As a 15 year old, I had the same dreams about Twiggy Ramirez, but that’s a whole other story).
Tomorrow night I am finally going to my first ever Bon Jovi concert.
The obsession my 9 year old self had with this man has greatly diminished through the passage of time but Jon Bon Jovi still has a well-protected place in my heart. A place where I can pick out a bon jovi song from a single opening note in a crowded supermarket, much to the dismay of whomever happens to be shopping with me at the time. His place in my heart is his alone, slightly above the bands and the singers I loved after him, because no girl ever forgets the first man whose name she writes inside a love heart.
In typical Wooldridge style, my sister and I have the worst tickets in the entire stadium, but that won’t ruin the epic awesomeness of being in the same place as a man I’ve adored from afar for almost two decades.
The fact that I can say “two decades” about something I remember is highly disturbing, but I’ll let that pass for now.
This time tomorrow I’ll be on my way to fulfilling yet another childhood music dream, and that feeling is worth all the ridicule I’ve copped over the years when (loudly) celebrating my fandom.
Bri <3 Bon Jovi
Aaaaaaalways
He wore tight pants, big hair and a cheeky grin and he was the biggest love my short life had witnessed to that point.
As a nine year old, I would dream about the day I would go to his concert and he would spot me out of the crowd and propose marriage and I’d get to live out the rest of my days staring at him while he sang songs to me.
(As a 15 year old, I had the same dreams about Twiggy Ramirez, but that’s a whole other story).
Tomorrow night I am finally going to my first ever Bon Jovi concert.
The obsession my 9 year old self had with this man has greatly diminished through the passage of time but Jon Bon Jovi still has a well-protected place in my heart. A place where I can pick out a bon jovi song from a single opening note in a crowded supermarket, much to the dismay of whomever happens to be shopping with me at the time. His place in my heart is his alone, slightly above the bands and the singers I loved after him, because no girl ever forgets the first man whose name she writes inside a love heart.
In typical Wooldridge style, my sister and I have the worst tickets in the entire stadium, but that won’t ruin the epic awesomeness of being in the same place as a man I’ve adored from afar for almost two decades.
The fact that I can say “two decades” about something I remember is highly disturbing, but I’ll let that pass for now.
This time tomorrow I’ll be on my way to fulfilling yet another childhood music dream, and that feeling is worth all the ridicule I’ve copped over the years when (loudly) celebrating my fandom.
Bri <3 Bon Jovi
Aaaaaaalways