Giving Up On Love .. Kind of.

November 19th I got to make my 17 year old self very, very happy. I saw The Ataris in concert.

Now mostly, I would like to tell you about the concert itself, and how my heart sang with pure joy getting to hear San Dimas and IOU One Galaxy live.

But also, mostly, it's a story about how I met a boy.

I had originally planned on going to this show by myself. My mother was concerned about my car making it the trip back and forth from Orlando, so to humor her I found a friend to accompany me.

This friend cancelled on me the day before. (Don't worry, he got his. The night before the concert, so the same day he bailed, his car got towed. And he had to pay 200+ to get it back)

When I go to shows I tend to wear as comfortable clothes as I can. Big ol' t-shirt. Comfy pants. Shoes I can stand in. Hair in a plain ponytail. Not this time. I wore my favorite outfit (jeans, dressy top with a short jacket) and flip flops. I had my best friend put my hair up all sassy. I wore dark makeup. I was trying something new.

So, I went to Orlando on my own. Not a big deal, I've been to Orlando several times. I've been to Downtown Disney alone (to see New Found Glory and Hello Goodbye and Saves the Day in concert! Eeee. Nearly a year later and I still lose my shit at the thought of it)
However, one thing I didn't realize about this particular trek to Orlando. I was headed to downtown Orlando. Something I didn't know until I was in downtown Orlando yelling "OH MY GOD I'M IN DOWNTOWN ORLANDO"

Side note: I realize for most, this isn't a big deal. Driving downtown in a big city ain't no thang. But to me, it is. I rarely get on the interstate, and I never drive downtown anywhere. Prior to moving to Florida, I had never been on three lane highway. So ending up in downtown Orlando was sort of a disaster.

But, I didn't get lost! This is a big deal for me. I get lost everywhere. I successfully found the parking lot. Paid to park, found a primo spot where I could just drive right out. (To be fair, there were 7 cars in the lot when I got there)
I headed off from my car in search of the club. Walked past it twice. Then, being super cool, I walked right into the place like I owned it. To realize, the doors weren't officially open yet and I needed to get the hell out of there.

So I went outside were two guys were sitting outside the door. I asked them if they were waiting for the Ataris show, which they were. So I stood next to them and did what any self respecting 20-something does when wasting time. I started tweeting.
I am famously early for shows. I tend to be 3-4 hours early. At least. Thankfully I was only an hour and a half early this time. I would've looked a damn fool.

The guys that were sitting outside were hilarious. I had them pegged at about 15, but they were definitely the high point of waiting in line.
After a while it became apparent that I was going to be standing with them a while, so I started chatting them up. Mostly because I was bored, but also because I wanted to know how old they really were.

The loud one was 16, so I wasn't far off with him. The quiet one turned out to be 23, and I felt sort of bad for thinking he was so young.
When I asked how old they thought I was, I had to laugh. The 16 year old said, "I'd say twenty-one. But judging by the outfit... eighteen."
I laughed and laughed. Then I thanked him for the compliment, but alas. I'm 25.
At this point the 23 year old stood up and started a conversation with me about music.

The three of us had a good time (Or, I had a good time with them) in line. We had witty banter about people in line with us and the cars we drive. The 23 year old turned out to be originally from New York, and when I said I was originally from Michigan we had a good time making fun of natural Floridians and their lack of grammar and spelling skills. If that wasn't enough to win me over (I love a fella with good grammar), 23 year old was the first person that when I mentioned I play the ukulele, he didn't laugh. I was crushing hardcore.

When the doors finally opened at 8:30 we headed inside. Now, normally when I go to a show I find a spot in the front of the stage and stay there for the night. However, my com padres for the evening headed up to the balcony and having nothing better to do, I tagged along.

Hanging out in the balcony is fun, as it turns out. You get a great view of the stage, the sound quality is amazing (the front row is distorted most times because it is so loud. Not to sound old.) there's good people watching. Delightful.
So upstairs we started talking about other shows we'd been to. 23 year old asked me who was playing over the PA, and I suggested some songs and albums by the band (Alkaline Trio). We all got very excited about an upcoming Jimmy Eat World concert.

Then the show began.

The first band was local, and apparently a last minute squeeze in. They had good stage presence and were alright. They were pretty much every band that plays in any hometown. They had good sound, but there wasn't any magic there. The people there to see them loved them because they knew the guys and had that sort of loyalty to them. Meh.
They got booted off the stage during their last song. The mikes got shut off. Cracked me up. My sister had texted me during the show, and I mentioned how they got booted. My sister has a kind heart and said, 'Those poor guys. I hope they don't give up on music and keep trying'.

Right towards the end of the first band's set, 23 year old asks me if I know what beer the bar has. I said I know they have a 2 for $5 deal on PBR. He asked me if I wanted to split it and I said sure. Normally, at shows I do not drink. I don't smoke. I don't even go to the bathroom. I stay right where I am and get into the music. If the band is good, I won't even text. But again, I was trying something new. So I slammed my beer (Cuz PBR is nasty and I'm not a beer drinker in the first place) and bummed a smoke off of 23 year old. Then I proceeded to be drunk for the next two bands. It. Was. Awesome.

The second band was really great. Don't Panic from Pennsylvania. Their music is super catchy, they're fun to watch. They covered "American Girl" by Tom Petty and instantly stole my heart. The lead singer was a trip to watch, he was all over the place, tapping his foot while playing guitar, mad man. Loved them. Right before they went into a song the lead singer goes, "This next song's about a girl. ... FUCK GIRLS!" Awesome.

The next band up was the lead singer of Gasoline Heart, Louis DeFabrizio, by himself. I've been following him on the ol' twitter a while. He's super funny. The videos I've seen of him performing were delightful, kind of Bruce Springsteen-y.
He was pretty much the same on stage. Really snarky, really really talented. I can't wait to see Gasoline Heart again on Dec. 10th!

Right before he finished his set, Louis made a comment about being the opening band. He had the Ataris come on stage with him for a few songs. Then he said, quite brilliantly, "I know how this is for you guys. I'm like, the guy you really like and you're having a lot of fun making out with me. But you just want to get to the point and get straight to fucking. Well, I promise you, penetration is coming".
What an awesomely honest thing to say about being the opening band.

The Ataris came out and it was just like I had hoped. They were hilarious and played almost all of my favorite songs. I screamed my guts out singing every single word.
Some drunk guy came and stood up on the balcony for a while. And every few minutes he'd lean over and say something asinine. Like "It sounds better up here, doesn't it sound better up here?". Dude, I don't know. I've been here all night. I don't know you, go away. Then my favorite, "Have you ever seen the Ataris before? But you've like, heard of them, right?". No, I have never heard of them, I'm just singing to every word. Weirdo. Stop breathing in my face.
They played all their famous songs, San Dimas High School Football Rules, Takeoffs and Landings, In This Diary, Your Boyfriend Sucks, IOU One Galaxy, Unopened Letter to the World. (To my dismay, they didn't play Looking Back on Today, which is my personal favorite Ataris song. And they didn't play Boys of Summer, which isn't really their song, but I love their version of it)

At the end of the set we headed back downstairs and maneuvered our way to the merch tables. I was really stoked to get a copy of The Ataris new 7" vinyl. I got to meet the lead singer of the Ataris, Kris Roe. And was disappointed when he was too busy trying to get some other guy to buy the 7" than talk to me when all I wanted to do was thank him for a great show.
I stopped to talk to the Don't Panic guys, who were nice enough to let me gush over how awesome they were while I bought their CD and tshirt. They were really nice, and made a point of saying they had seen me rocking out up in the balcony. Very nice fellows.

Then we were outside, me and my two homeys for the evening. We had the awkward saying goodbye, where we made vague comments of "Maybe we'll see you at another show..". There was a very High Fidelity moment where we realized we had parked in opposite directions. Never one to let a good pop culture reference pass me by, I quoted the movie and said "Ah, so it is." And off we went.

Then I heard a "Hey!" and turned around. 23 year old smiled and yelled, "Jimmy Eat World!". I grinned back and yelled, "Jimmy Eat World!". Ah, so it is.

My trek back home was mildly uneventful. I had to figure out how to find my way back to I-4. Had a serious debate with myself whether or not I should stop for some drive-thru, only to wait till I got home to eat a bologna sandwich.

It was a fantastic night. Definitely one for the record books.

A week later and I'm still thinking about the boy I met. Meeting a guy who you can hang out with for 5 hours and it not be awkward is amazing, for anyone. Most times after 5 hours with my best friends I feel like I should take off just so I don't annoy the shit out of them. But with 23 year old, I was comfortable hanging out with him, and it wasn't awkward having to bellow into his ear so he could hear me. Like we'd always been going to shows together.

Maybe I'll see him at the Jimmy Eat World concert. Or perhaps I'll run into him at the Gasoline Heart show in two weeks. Or maybe there was just one night with a really cool guy at an awesome show. And that's all it will be.

As much as I tend to prattle on about dating and love and how I'm holding out, I really mean it. But every once in a while when you meet a guy, and there is a small sense of magic, you can't help but hold out hope that it'll work out in the end.

Tracking the Uke Progress

So I've been playing ukulele for two weeks now.

The fact of the matter is, I have never loved anything as much as I love playing the ukulele. I think about it all day when I'm apart from it, and when it's in my direct eyeline, I can't not play it.

I'm not that great. I don't have illusions of grandeur. For playing for two weeks, I'm, well. I play as well as one would expect after two weeks. I've learned a few chords. I can successfully play one song. Not well, I gotta pause to move my fingers to the right chords, but it's getting there.

Of course, when you find something that makes you radiate with pure joy, you want to scream it from the rooftops.

Fun tip for anyone who is considering learning to play the ukulele: When you tell your friends and co-workers you are learning to play the ukulele, they will laugh. It is the same laugh from everyone. A sort of half chuckle of glee and mockery. And then they realize you're serious and say "No, really?".
And then they will ask you if you can play Somewhere Over The Rainbow like the Hawaiian guy does in 50 First Dates.

Finding the ukulele is exactly what I needed. It keeps my mind off of small, unimportant things (like my lack of a dating life) and again. Fills my heart with joy. I find myself walking around singing to myself. Loudly.

Not only did I want you to know that I'm learning the ukulele and enjoying it. I wanted to make public record letting you know, I am still that fantastically happy girl I was a few weeks ago. I feel like myself, I'm happy.

Life is good today.

Ode to Hot Wings

Most of my posts tend to be long and drawn out. So I'd like to do something short and sweet for you here, today.

I'd like to tell you about something very near and dear to my heart, something I love intensely.

I love Hot Wings.

The best part of my week is going out with my two best friends and a few coworkers. We gather around a table, drink delightful cocktails, and pig out on Hot Wings. I'm talkin', we eat hot wings like we get paid to eat them. Last time? We had ordered 60 hot wings. Sixty! Between three people!

I can appreciate all wings. The weird flavored ones (I have a particular fondness for Garlic Parmesan), super sloppy sauced wings, bone-in, boneless. I've never met a hot wing I didn't like.

Once at home, we unintentionally ordered the "Holy Fucking Hot!" Wings. Talk about pain. Our mouths burned for a good 3 hours. But they were so good.

My all-time favorite wings are Naked Hot Wings from Hooters. But Applebees Traditional Bone-In Hot Wings are a close second.

Occasionally I like to use dipping sauce (Ranch, none of this Blue Cheese shit). The celery is the second best part to Hot Wings. I prefer wings that don't have as much sauce (I feel like they're hotter) and I try to eat 'em as hot as I can stand it.

It always amazes me to watch people eat hot wings. There's people who stick the whole thing in their mouth and pull the bone out clean. My mom tends to get sauce all over her face, then her face burns all night. I have no respect for anyone who eats bone-in wings with a fork.
I personally, hold my wings between my index finger and thumb, and eat them slowly. Mostly to savor them. But also because it's less likely for me to get sauce on my face or my shirt (Any time I eat there is a 99% guarantee that it will end up on my shirt)

Just thinking about hot wings and my mouth waters.

I love you, Hot Wings.

What I Learned in 2010

A series of events transpired recently that have in turn set off a chain reaction of changes in this girl.

It's not a big secret to really anyone that the last year or so I haven't quite been myself. My very first love got married this summer, and in the months leading up to the wedding as well as the months following, I have just not been myself.

Those that really know me have seen this change, and can account for it. Some have pointed out that while I was dying on the inside, I made it seem like I was doing well. But I wasn't. I hadn't been. I didn't feel like myself, I wasn't acting like myself.

I don't really intend to wax poetically about my first love and why it changed me and shaped me into the (mildly) functioning adult I am today. That's not what this blog is about. Not today.

What you need to know about my first love is simply this: I have loved this person for well over 75% of my life. Because of this person, I believe in love and fate and hope.
I had always believed this was the person I was going to spend my life with. However, this Fate I'd always believed in, had other plans.

Blah blah.

So in the months following the wedding I did feel better. It was over, my last grasps at hope it wasn't going to happen were gone. It was time for me to move on.

Sadly, moving on from your first love is harder than you'd imagine. For me, anyway. Going through this heartache took away the things I was always most proud of. My belief in Love, Fate, and Hope. I became cynical. I built a wall around my heart with bricks and barbed wire. Keep the hell out.

So I was still struggling with my attempts to move on when something simple happened.

I had a perfect first kiss.

Now, in the last year I've had a few first kisses with a couple different fellas. And first kisses are always delightful and nice in their own way. They're all special. (I love first kisses).

But this first kiss? This first kiss made me feel like I was in high school and I knew I was going to be late for curfew but it was going to be worth it. It was the kind of kiss where you don't know what time it is or how long its been. The kind of kiss that sets hundreds of butterflies free in your stomach.

This one simple kiss, and those walls came down. Barbed wire and all. Suddenly I knew that I had every reason in the world to believe in Love, Fate and Hope. I knew, without these things? It would not be possible for a kiss to make you feel like that.

And I came back. I felt like myself again. I no longer feel like I need to keep quiet around people. When I feel the need, I bust out singing and dancing. Even when I'm probably just embarrassing myself. That hopelessly romantic, silly, goofball girl I always had been until the last year was back. What a fantastic feeling.

Again, without going into details, it became apparent that kissing with the person who was the other half of this perfect kiss and I wouldn't be kissing again. But that's quite alright. Honestly, when your first kiss is that fantastic, all potential future kisses will more than likely be dull in comparison. (Sort of like "Chasing The Dragon"; you never get a high as good as that first one)

Realizing a person you care for isn't ready to be with you, and quite honestly, that you aren't really ready to be with, is difficult. I can't really complain. We had that first kiss that woke me up from a fog I'd been in for so long I couldn't really remember what it was like before it came sweeping in. This person is on my top five list of things I'm most thankful for this year. Even if we just continue on as acquaintances.

I digress.

So, I'm back. I feel like myself. I feel fan-fucking-tastic. This broken heart has been sutured.

Being back to yourself may be the best feeling in the world (aside from the aforementioned perfect first kisses).

Giving up on love briefly, and having my heart torn into a million pieces made me realize one thing, though. I put way too much stock in what someone else thought or felt for me/of me. There is only one person in the world that can honestly make me happy. And that girl is in the mirror, smiling back at me every morning when I finish brushing my teeth.

I made myself a promise months ago that I didn't hold on to. I let it go, and just shrugged it off. Back then, though, I was still reeling. Nothing really mattered other than how miserable I was (depression is a horribly selfish thing. Gross.)

Effective November 5th, 2010, I put that promise back on the table.

I will not date/have sex/do anything with a boy until I learn to play an instrument.

I bought myself a ukulele. I've learned two chords already, and I'm on my way. But really, it's no rush. Whoever comes along will have to wait till I'm satisfied with my uke skills, or they aren't worth it in the first place.

It's not a huge secret that I do a lot of things alone. I take myself on movie dates, I'll go to a restaurant alone, at the ripe old age of 25 I've even started going to the dentist alone.

2010 has been a year where a lot has changed. I've made a lot of accomplishments. I've been put through a difficult heartbreak. I lost myself. I found myself again. I bought my first pair of Converse sneakers. I decorated my bedroom for the first time in my life, lacking movie posters.

One of my favorite things about this year are the concerts I've been to. I've seen four of my favorite bands in concert this year.
And, in celebration of feeling like myself again, I'll be adding a fifth band to this list.

In two weeks I'll be seeing a band that has been consistently on my play lists since I was 17 years old. Going alone, I will see The Ataris. Just thinking about it and my heart sings. It's just what I need.

Heartbreaks are the worst. But, I assure you, you will find something (or someone) to bring you back from them. When you find yourself on the other side of that heartache, do something for yourself. Even if its just buying yourself something you can't really afford but have wanted for ages.

Someone may break your heart with their actions, they may make your heart feel like it's fresh out of the box. Other people will hurt you, they'll break your spirit and make you feel like you're not worth anything. Other people will make you feel like the coolest kid in school, through them you'll see what an amazing person you are and the things you can do. You'll need both kinds of people, the ones who break you and the ones who will put you back together again.

Just remember: At the end of the day, the only person who will consistently make you happy is that person smiling back at you in the mirror.