Tea, Complaining, Aminuhls, and a Concert
My sister has some kind of nerve damage in her legs *and* RLS, but her appointment with the specialist (who, apparently, got it the second she walked in unlike the other doctors who just said, "So, your legs hurt, huh?" for months on end) got pushed back 'til after Thanksgiving. Her meds stopped working and ran out. I just made her some Green Tea because we are out of bananas. It helps. While I was at it, and because I was afraid it might have some strange affect on her, I made myself some Jasmine tea. (Iroh's favorite :) )
An old threat my mom keeps bringing up is sending me to my aunt's because I'm unreasonably lazy and unaccountably unreasonable. Neither of us can stand being in each other's presence for very long, but that's mostly because we're both stubborn and grieving at the same time. Though my aunt would get me a job, a house, and a break, I feel that my mom should be helping with that stuff instead and, because she won't, I should do it myself. The problem with me is I'm finally focusing on my feelings, which accounts for much of the gloom I'm in most of the time, and am a procrastinator. There's too much to worry about and nothing's clear around here, but I refuse to leave because my sister's need some sort of sane support.
Other than that, the ferrets have finally grown on me. Honey, the girl, is adorable and relatively tame; Bear, the boy, is wild and bites a lot. It's impossible to clean their 3 1/2 story cage alone because that means either keeping them in, which is next to impossible, or having one of the other animals babysit them, also impossible. So I cuddle with them (translation: keep them from borrowing into the couch for too long or sneaking away) and they're webbed feet, little tails, and even the snaky way they move or still whenever I pick them up is so cute. They have this strangely unique smell though, but it's distinct, not entirely unpleasant. We were told they were de-glanded or something, but we were also told that Ollie was one years old, something that his size, for a Maine coon, is impossible.
I hung with the band for two days. Technically, we spent all of Saturday together up until 1 in the AM, but still, that was a long drive. We missed the Gym Class Heroes meet and greet and got something to eat, walked around Discover Mills, and then headed for the concert.
There was a lot of confusion when it came to the other meet and greet, which JamJam was almost cheated out of, but eventually we got in. All five of us. Nana and Buddy got the other two wrist bands but Squash and I were left out; she wanted to go back to the pit because Plain White T's was still performing and we'd waded from a perfect spot to get told no. I refused, told her we'd see how it worked out.
Apparently Fall Out Boy had tighter security and a better known meet and greet because lines and lines were up for them. We could have met them too but Gym Class Heroes wasn't with them and their deal had been a prize, not a sale. So we followed the three, Squash freaking about going to jail and me reiterating our alibi: "If they ask, we're just following so we don't get lost." We would wait outside the door if we had to, but I didn't want to be away from them without a cell phone and I wanted to make it up to Squash.
The guy who told us no didn't notice us until it was too late. When I looked up, the band was there, sitting down. There was no door, just a room in the basement, a few security officers, and about fifteen fans, minus us. It was too quiet but following my gut (yelling: "Why is it so quiet?" or something else inane) would have just made it seem like I was flaunting my obvious illegal Being There at the guy who had been doing a good job at pretending he wasn't insulted. He checked the list on his phone several times, but I hid behind JamJam.
Travis had an interesting conversation with her that lasted the whole time, even during the time we took the double group pictures. She'd met them before, at the Masquerade, and D-sashi remembered her, but where the lead rapper was being politely witty with us, he took special interest in her. It was awesome!
The concert was great. No complaints that had anything to do with music. My body was in pain half the time; I almost fainted once because the pit is crowded and gets hot fast, but I sat near the bathrooms with the workers chatting away with me for half the F.O.B set. An older lady checked up on me every now and then; I kept drinking bottles of water, a mistake I paid for later. Painfully.
The first band, Cute ....something wasn't a bad opener at all. Plain White T's were cool and go the crowd to wave cell phones instead of lighters during a soft song, "I'll Write a Song For You" which we came into right after meeting the guys, geeking.
Gym Class Heroes hyped everybody up, a Jesus, and a baby on the drum set; as always, the Jesus was funny and the speeches were hilarious. Their bassist was all over the place, very energetic. They all picked on each other, interacted with the Jesus, and spat water at the crowd. They even made an appearance in FOB's set. I had to stop paying attention after a while, because the people around the girls and I kept fainting, getting dragged out of the crowd, and my feet were starting to hurt. I was still dizzy. There were kids there, as in maybe ten-year-olds, and I felt like I they couldn't see (which they couldn't) and if I danced like everyone else I would hit them. There was also a guy there who obviously didn't wash his hair but insisted on shaking his head at every down beat anyway.
Fall Out Boy had pyrotechnic stuff that I *felt*, confetti, and a cartoon that focused exclusively on Pete...like most of the stuff does with them, I've noticed. He did most of the talking and had an outfit that stood out from them: black leather I think, and scruffy/fluffy hair that made him look younger. He broke his foot after "saving orphans" but is back, limping sorta. The drummer was the one I watched the most because the bass playing wasn't something I could follow with them; his technique was something that looked too much like a guitarist's and I barely have the normal stuff down. The guitarist, not Patrick (who rocked), kept jumping around almost on set, but he was the second most entertaining, movement wise. Patrick's voice was great. They did an acoustic song, which was great, and several covers. I kept waiting for it to end 'cause I was in pain, but there were probably twenty songs.
Then this guy came out, the new host, and did this awful joke, smiling and gesturing all the while: "Y'all know Dirty right? F.O.B's host? Well, he dead."
Instant silence, a beat, several, small, "Aw"s, and then, "Nah, I'm kiddin', I don't know where that man is, but I'm his replacement."
While we process the inappropriateness of this, he plugs himself into the crowd's good graces by announcing his cousin is in GCH, the peaces us out.
There's confetti, another song, and bathroom breaks. We get home in the morning. I clean, talk to the girls some more, and sleep on the couch.