He is such a Renaissance man.
Was that me bringing sexy back last night? Was it? Was it?!
No. Okay, so if you know me you're probably thinking, "No, TD. You definitely did not bring sexy back last night." But, if I didn't, who did? Stupid question, right? Right.
I lounged around yesterday anticipating a day full of sitting in front of the TV challenging my channel changing skills. Until about 1:00 in the afternoon things had been going according to plan; I watched Law and Order reruns until I was blue in the face. My phone rang and my heart skipped a beat as Annie flashed on my display screen. I answered, as any friend would, and she asked,
"TD, are you still down to go to Justin Timberlake tonight?" What kind of question is that? Who asks that, honestly? Would I still like to go to see Justin Timberlake...FOR FREE?
"I mean, yeah, I guess that would be cool."
I hung up the phone trying to be as casual as anyone who was about to go see someone that they had admired since their elementary days when N*SYNC made your heart sing and made most prepubescent girls weak in the knees. I forgot all about dignity as I ran to ask my dad if he would mind if I went to the show- the only thing standing between Justin Timberlake and I at that point was the laundry basket full of my clean clothes that my dad mandated that I take upstairs. I picked up the basket and, with leaps and bounds, ended up in my bedroom and in my underwear faster than I could have ever imagined.
Although under normal circumstances I will not admit to this openly, but I am not a fashionista. Normally to prep for a show I throw on a pair of jeans, sneakers or flats (depending on the type of show), and a t-shirt; however, I felt that may not be appropriate for a concert of this magnitude. I utilized technology the best way that I knew how; I changed my away message on AIM hoping that someone, hoping that anyone would answer my cry for help and tell me what the fuck one is supposed to wear to a Justin Timberlake concert, I changed my Facebook status asking all of Facebook for its help- you would think that someone would take a vested interest in someone that does not know how to dress and is seeking advice from anyone, and everyone, that was willing to help. The only replies that I got via Myspace were "Go naked!", "You always dress cute!" The only people that think I have any sort of respectable style are those that dress worse than I do. I resorted to contact that was slightly more personal and figured that the reason I had telephone numbers was so that I could use them when it was necessary; I texted and called friends from all corners of Ohio and Kinel finally provided the kind of insight that I was looking for. Before I reached Kinel's expertise I had called my friend Amanda who goes to school in Toledo and asked her what I should wear; her friend asked me to describe my style and, the best way that I could think of to describe it was "It's like What Not to Wear...only worse...and more colorful." Ziiing.
I got dressed and put on my makeup, which, for an event like this, was very calm and subtle considering my usual tastes. I ended up leaving my house around a quarter until 4:00 although Annie didn't need me to be at UC until 6:00. I was weary of the traffic that I may encounter so I thought leaving too early would be better than leaving too late. I made a couple of pit stops along the way and spent a total of about $27 on a birthday present for Annie and some gas. I ended up arriving at UC around 20 minutes until 5 and I didn't even speed...sort of. I sought out my roommates and found Melinda surfing Facebook or some other internet site (surprise, surprise). She and I sat and talked for about an hour then I decided that I should try to use some of my left over meal plans so she and I got dinner. Well, that's a lie, I got dinner, she watched. I went back to the room alone because Melinda was shot on the way and had to be rushed to the hospital. God damn Cincinnati.
No, but seriously, she went to work out at the gym.
I sat in Tip's room and we engaged in conversation about the show. Tip put on some Justin Timberlake so that I could force the lyrics and beats into my brain so that I could gyrate appropriately from 173 stories above the stage. I grew impatient and went up to Annie's room, met her friend Corey, and tried to make her hurry so that we could go and see Justin Timberlake shake it, shake, shake, shake, shake it. Her friend Sarah arrived and then, after some preshow excitement, we were off!
We found US Bank Arena with ease and found parking with almost as much ease. The sign in front of the garage said $8 but the man only charged us $5; either the sign was wrong or the man thought that we were hot. My guess is that the sign was wrong, but we thought it would be more exciting to think that he thought we were smokin'. I took it upon myself to get out of the car and bust out some early dance moves for Annie, Sofia, and Sarah as they sat in the car drinking their lemonade and Twister orange soda before the show; it is safe to say those girls have never seen booty shakin' like that before. Their lives are forever changed and forever better because of it.
With my keen sense of direction we were able to find our seats quickly and effectively. There was a sign that said "ABSOLUTELY NO CAMERAS ALLOWED FOR TONIGHTS EVENT!" I gave Annie my camera to stuff down her shirt and broke the law of the land with pride. Our seats were high up but they were not bad. There was a pack of mothers and their very young daughters sitting in the row with us- the girls could not have been more than four or five- they were so cute. We caught the last song Pink performed, "Get This Party Started" or something of the sort. She did a pretty awesome job and I wish that we could have seen the entire set; she busted out some cirque de soleil which was intense.
There was a huge time gap between Pink and JT where they played hip hop and rap music. I didn't know any of the words to any of the songs and found myself a part of the majority. I fear for pop culture today after seeing some of the people that did know all the words and knew exactly when to pop their collars. When I say jump, you say how high. JT took stage and the entire arena went wild including the young girls next to us and the brigade of drunken mothers in the row in front of us.
*Note to self: When you are a mother, please do go to awesome concerts but please do not dance unless you can still work it and twerk it while not looking like you are experiencing a fatal seizure.
I do feel that it is necessary to comment on the variety of people that were at the show. You had your teenyboppers, your sceney-boppers, fashion faux-pas boppers, drunken baby-boomer-boppers, and the all purpose boppers. The overweight eight year olds in low-rise flare jeans with strands of beads serving as belts that were not strong enough to hold in the love handles that were exposed through their 98% spandex tanks held on tightly to their mothers hands as they rocked the low-rise jeans and mid-riff sweaters and knee-high boots with heels that could puncture lungs if given the chance. I realize that I am making brash generalizations, but I also feel that, from what I saw, it is fair to do so. I saw a lot of bad ideas in terms of what people were wearing and saw some cute items of clothing. My favorite were the girls who were dressed like Justin himself was going to embrace the "Bye-bye-bye Cam" mentality even further and allow for her to fill the spot in his heart and bed that was once occupied by Cameron Diaz and Britney Spears.
It goes without saying that Timberlake's performance was incredible. He played songs I knew all the words to and songs I didn't even know existed. (I feel it is important not to lie about this, but there were far more songs that I did not know existed than I knew all of the words to.) I had no idea Timberlake was so versatile. I want to learn how to dance. His entire set lasted from about 9:00 to 11:00. We all snagged free posters after the show and made our way outside where everyone was punched in the stomach with a blast of cold air that made you want to curl into the fetal position hoping a kind soul would pick you up and carry you to an already heated car...hopefully not their car, however.
After enjoying a sub from Jimmy Johns I found my way to my bed and crashed and woke to Melinda's cold hands on my back saying, "TD, its 6:40!" I got out of bed and put on a sorry excuse for an outfit and she and I went to breakfast so she could be ready for her exam at 8:00. I ate and waited for Annie to call to say she was back with my car and as soon as I heard from her, I gathered my things that were sprawled all around the 604 and drove back to lovely Springboro.
I want to know what I got on my Psychology final. As of 3:00 today it will have been a week since I have taken it. I do realize that there are over 100 people in the class, but there is a professor, a teachers assistant, and a scantron machine that does all of the grading. Suck it.
I love Gwen Stefani's new single. I'm not sure if because it's so damn catchy or if it's because every time I hear it I picture Alyssa grinding on her bed with a creepy look on her face that nobody but the members of Daniel's 604 would understand...but, with that said, that's kind of weird and it sketches me out when she does it in my face and, now that I think about it, it should probably make me dislike the song. Let’s go with the fact that it's catchy, shall we?
No. Okay, so if you know me you're probably thinking, "No, TD. You definitely did not bring sexy back last night." But, if I didn't, who did? Stupid question, right? Right.
I lounged around yesterday anticipating a day full of sitting in front of the TV challenging my channel changing skills. Until about 1:00 in the afternoon things had been going according to plan; I watched Law and Order reruns until I was blue in the face. My phone rang and my heart skipped a beat as Annie flashed on my display screen. I answered, as any friend would, and she asked,
"TD, are you still down to go to Justin Timberlake tonight?" What kind of question is that? Who asks that, honestly? Would I still like to go to see Justin Timberlake...FOR FREE?
"I mean, yeah, I guess that would be cool."
I hung up the phone trying to be as casual as anyone who was about to go see someone that they had admired since their elementary days when N*SYNC made your heart sing and made most prepubescent girls weak in the knees. I forgot all about dignity as I ran to ask my dad if he would mind if I went to the show- the only thing standing between Justin Timberlake and I at that point was the laundry basket full of my clean clothes that my dad mandated that I take upstairs. I picked up the basket and, with leaps and bounds, ended up in my bedroom and in my underwear faster than I could have ever imagined.
Although under normal circumstances I will not admit to this openly, but I am not a fashionista. Normally to prep for a show I throw on a pair of jeans, sneakers or flats (depending on the type of show), and a t-shirt; however, I felt that may not be appropriate for a concert of this magnitude. I utilized technology the best way that I knew how; I changed my away message on AIM hoping that someone, hoping that anyone would answer my cry for help and tell me what the fuck one is supposed to wear to a Justin Timberlake concert, I changed my Facebook status asking all of Facebook for its help- you would think that someone would take a vested interest in someone that does not know how to dress and is seeking advice from anyone, and everyone, that was willing to help. The only replies that I got via Myspace were "Go naked!", "You always dress cute!" The only people that think I have any sort of respectable style are those that dress worse than I do. I resorted to contact that was slightly more personal and figured that the reason I had telephone numbers was so that I could use them when it was necessary; I texted and called friends from all corners of Ohio and Kinel finally provided the kind of insight that I was looking for. Before I reached Kinel's expertise I had called my friend Amanda who goes to school in Toledo and asked her what I should wear; her friend asked me to describe my style and, the best way that I could think of to describe it was "It's like What Not to Wear...only worse...and more colorful." Ziiing.
I got dressed and put on my makeup, which, for an event like this, was very calm and subtle considering my usual tastes. I ended up leaving my house around a quarter until 4:00 although Annie didn't need me to be at UC until 6:00. I was weary of the traffic that I may encounter so I thought leaving too early would be better than leaving too late. I made a couple of pit stops along the way and spent a total of about $27 on a birthday present for Annie and some gas. I ended up arriving at UC around 20 minutes until 5 and I didn't even speed...sort of. I sought out my roommates and found Melinda surfing Facebook or some other internet site (surprise, surprise). She and I sat and talked for about an hour then I decided that I should try to use some of my left over meal plans so she and I got dinner. Well, that's a lie, I got dinner, she watched. I went back to the room alone because Melinda was shot on the way and had to be rushed to the hospital. God damn Cincinnati.
No, but seriously, she went to work out at the gym.
I sat in Tip's room and we engaged in conversation about the show. Tip put on some Justin Timberlake so that I could force the lyrics and beats into my brain so that I could gyrate appropriately from 173 stories above the stage. I grew impatient and went up to Annie's room, met her friend Corey, and tried to make her hurry so that we could go and see Justin Timberlake shake it, shake, shake, shake, shake it. Her friend Sarah arrived and then, after some preshow excitement, we were off!
We found US Bank Arena with ease and found parking with almost as much ease. The sign in front of the garage said $8 but the man only charged us $5; either the sign was wrong or the man thought that we were hot. My guess is that the sign was wrong, but we thought it would be more exciting to think that he thought we were smokin'. I took it upon myself to get out of the car and bust out some early dance moves for Annie, Sofia, and Sarah as they sat in the car drinking their lemonade and Twister orange soda before the show; it is safe to say those girls have never seen booty shakin' like that before. Their lives are forever changed and forever better because of it.
With my keen sense of direction we were able to find our seats quickly and effectively. There was a sign that said "ABSOLUTELY NO CAMERAS ALLOWED FOR TONIGHTS EVENT!" I gave Annie my camera to stuff down her shirt and broke the law of the land with pride. Our seats were high up but they were not bad. There was a pack of mothers and their very young daughters sitting in the row with us- the girls could not have been more than four or five- they were so cute. We caught the last song Pink performed, "Get This Party Started" or something of the sort. She did a pretty awesome job and I wish that we could have seen the entire set; she busted out some cirque de soleil which was intense.
There was a huge time gap between Pink and JT where they played hip hop and rap music. I didn't know any of the words to any of the songs and found myself a part of the majority. I fear for pop culture today after seeing some of the people that did know all the words and knew exactly when to pop their collars. When I say jump, you say how high. JT took stage and the entire arena went wild including the young girls next to us and the brigade of drunken mothers in the row in front of us.
*Note to self: When you are a mother, please do go to awesome concerts but please do not dance unless you can still work it and twerk it while not looking like you are experiencing a fatal seizure.
I do feel that it is necessary to comment on the variety of people that were at the show. You had your teenyboppers, your sceney-boppers, fashion faux-pas boppers, drunken baby-boomer-boppers, and the all purpose boppers. The overweight eight year olds in low-rise flare jeans with strands of beads serving as belts that were not strong enough to hold in the love handles that were exposed through their 98% spandex tanks held on tightly to their mothers hands as they rocked the low-rise jeans and mid-riff sweaters and knee-high boots with heels that could puncture lungs if given the chance. I realize that I am making brash generalizations, but I also feel that, from what I saw, it is fair to do so. I saw a lot of bad ideas in terms of what people were wearing and saw some cute items of clothing. My favorite were the girls who were dressed like Justin himself was going to embrace the "Bye-bye-bye Cam" mentality even further and allow for her to fill the spot in his heart and bed that was once occupied by Cameron Diaz and Britney Spears.
It goes without saying that Timberlake's performance was incredible. He played songs I knew all the words to and songs I didn't even know existed. (I feel it is important not to lie about this, but there were far more songs that I did not know existed than I knew all of the words to.) I had no idea Timberlake was so versatile. I want to learn how to dance. His entire set lasted from about 9:00 to 11:00. We all snagged free posters after the show and made our way outside where everyone was punched in the stomach with a blast of cold air that made you want to curl into the fetal position hoping a kind soul would pick you up and carry you to an already heated car...hopefully not their car, however.
After enjoying a sub from Jimmy Johns I found my way to my bed and crashed and woke to Melinda's cold hands on my back saying, "TD, its 6:40!" I got out of bed and put on a sorry excuse for an outfit and she and I went to breakfast so she could be ready for her exam at 8:00. I ate and waited for Annie to call to say she was back with my car and as soon as I heard from her, I gathered my things that were sprawled all around the 604 and drove back to lovely Springboro.
I want to know what I got on my Psychology final. As of 3:00 today it will have been a week since I have taken it. I do realize that there are over 100 people in the class, but there is a professor, a teachers assistant, and a scantron machine that does all of the grading. Suck it.
I love Gwen Stefani's new single. I'm not sure if because it's so damn catchy or if it's because every time I hear it I picture Alyssa grinding on her bed with a creepy look on her face that nobody but the members of Daniel's 604 would understand...but, with that said, that's kind of weird and it sketches me out when she does it in my face and, now that I think about it, it should probably make me dislike the song. Let’s go with the fact that it's catchy, shall we?