Things I Like Because of Guys

So, I'm not perfect, and I've done some pretty stupid things to make people like me more than they already did. Life is an embarrassing time for me (but, really, who was it not an embarrassing time for? Probably hot people, just saying). And I am guilty of taking interest in all kinds of stuff just because a guy suggests I like that thing. The problem? I've ended up actually liking a lot of those things. See? I bet you thought I couldn't be any more pathetic. Well, looks like you were wrong! Ha!

1. 3OH!3 - Yeah, back in 10th grade when "Don't Trust Me" was hitting the airwaves and I was totally oblivious to what was playing on the radio, I listened to 3OH!3 because a guy forced me to. Well, forced is a heavy term to use here, but I'm pretty sure he actually did force me to listen to them... and he made me make their lyrics my FaceBook status. Yes, he was a douchebag. I know. 

2. Red Hot Chili Peppers - Another band (but who is surprised?)! Actually, if we're getting specific, I only like this band because I was told I couldn't like this band. The same douchebag as above had a thing for blocking me on FaceBook every single time I expressed any love for any RHCP song, so it because a fun little game to play every couple of months. Then, when he was finally out of the picture, I was free to actually like the band because of the band and not because of him. 

3. LOST - As much as I love LOST, it kills me to say that I only watched all 6 seasons in 4 weeks because a  guy got me to. I don't really remember not wanting to watch LOST before then because I don't even think I knew what LOST was. I just knew it was like a big deal. So, I figured "Why not?" 

4. Stephen King - Okay, this one I hadn't even realized was going to be on this list until just now. This is probably the most embarrassing one too. Yeah, I only love Stephen King because a guy lent me IT a couple of summers ago. I recall in middle school when we had to read to get AR (accelerated reader) points, and the Stephen King novels were worth like 100 points each, so the smartest guy in my class was reading them, and I was totally opposed to the idea because I am so easily terrified. But I eventually took a leap. I fell instantly in love with everything about his writing and how his books smelled and the way I felt so inspired by every single description and ending. He's just perfection. 

5. Switchfoot - It was 6th grade. I had just gotten my hands on a portable CD/ AM-FM player, and music on the radio was actually okay. Out of all the "She Will Be Loved" and "Drop It Like It's Hot," I found love in a song called "Dare You To Move".... but only because a guy liked it. Honestly, this only lasted a while, but later in high school I rekindled my love for the band. Now, I'm totally in love with everything this band is a part of. 

I'm sure there are lots of other things that I could add to this list, and I'll be accumulating more throughout the rest of my life. The thing, though, is that people will read this list and think I've been faking it, lying, changing myself to please others or make people like me, but that's not the case. I never pretended to like anything above. So, judge me, but I doubt I am alone. 

Plus, I used to be really stupid. (I still am. shhhh)

7 Methods of Procrastination

If you're not aware, I'm the queen of procrastination. I like to claim that it is only because I do my

best work at the last minute, but, honest to blog, I am just really lazy and like to put-off doing things so I  become too overwhelmed with things that suck. So, despite my humongous load of things to do just sitting in front of me waiting for me to throw it a bone, I decided to take some time to give some helpful suggestions on how to better your procrastination experience. After all, if you're going to procrastinate, you might as well do it with oomph rather than pffft. 

1. You know that band that you liked back when you were 15 and put lots of their music on your iTunes and haven't really touched any of it since you realized the lead singer looked like a horse? Metro Station, anyone? Mitchel Musso? Whoever it was, I think it is time for you to become reacquainted with your love for them. Turn up the tunes, go on their website to see if they've done anything of the slightest importance since you pushed them out of your mind and into a great black pit of high school embarrassment, and don't forget to tell all your Twitter and FaceBook friends what you're doing so they can join in on the fun. 

2. Watch all 6 seasons of LOST and do nothing else. Trust me, it will give your life so much meaning and deepness and you may learn a little bit of Korean and Latin in the process. Plus, you'll finally understand all the hype that surrounded the TV show back when it was on the air. Potentially, this could suck up a week or two of your life. 

3. Have a marathon of all the sappy Nicholas Sparks movies. From A Walk to Remember (with its amazing soundtrack that consists of basically only Switchfoot) to Safe Haven, take your emotions on a fun ride. Don't forget to grab some tissues and a pint of B&J's for added sappiness. 

4. Have a million hours to spare? Watch Les Miserables! That movie is great, but ridiculously long. Plus, hot guys and Anne Hathaway is a prostitute. YOLO! 

5. Two words. Sims 2/3/Medieval. You'll waste a good 30 minutes alone just creating your first Sim... and then there's building and decorating their home. Before you know it, you'll be in tomorrow! 

6. Take some new selfies in your bathroom! Instagram that ish and then upload to Facebook. Be sure to let the whole world know how ugly you think you look so the desperate and horny guys (who you don't even know, btw) you're FB friends with will comment and tell you how much they'd like to get to know you better. Works every single time, y'all. 

7. Make a list of things you could be doing instead of what you are supposed to be doing. Wait a second....

So, now you're all ready to avoid that paper you've been meaning to write or not do the pile of laundry that's currently scattered all over your floor. I know you can do it... or not do it? Either way, happy procrastinating! 

A Salut to the Week Before Dead Week

Welcome to the real world, jackass!

While today marks the first day of a week of brutal hell (with the bursting flames and an ugly, horned Lucifer relishing in my misfortunes) for me, most of my friends and peers won't be feeling the heat until later next week (aka Dead Week aka the week that all the things are due before finals give you a good kick in the junk). I mean, I know Dead Week is going to be terrible, but I'm not even finished with this week, and I'm already throwing myself into the fetal position while cramming a week's worth of food in my mouth at one time and crying all the tears Leonardo DiCaprio has ever cried in any movie ever.

In high school, I never truly experienced a Dead Week because we pretty much kept learning until the very last minute, but, in college, you don't just keep learning. You also continue to do a million assignments that teachers have decided to assign at the very last possible minute. Why, professors? Why?!? I'll never understand the thought process behind this bologna.

In the next 8 days, I have one test, one 8 page paper over a book I haven't finished yet, and a 2000 word short story (that I imagine brutally stabbing at night) due. With all that in mind, you can probably safely assume that I am counting down the days until I am free to not do anything but make cheat sheets  smart study decisions for the two finals I actually have to go take. Meanwhile, I'm trying to calculate what kind of grades I may be able to pull off if I put in half my usual effort. (ha! just kidding. ha! no I'm not).

This week, the Pre-Dead Week Week, is basically the week where my mind is just like "Oh, that can wait until tomorrow! Tonight is definitely the time to start rewatching the second season of Degrassi: The Next Generation even though you've watched it a million times before!"and then I blow off reading from my book or even going to the gym to workout.
It's like the stuff I could be doing to lessen my Dead Week load refuse to be done. Almost like my mind wants to sabotage both my sanity and my GPA. Probably. It wouldn't be the first time my mind has ruined my chances at happiness.

So, pretty much, I'm either going to pull a Carrie and burn the town down, or I'm going to end up doing all the work last minute. Both options are quite tempting, but I really don't have the motivation to do either. So, I guess, here's to the rest of my life. Ugh. 

In An "MMMBop" They're Back!

Puberty did them good, right?

I'm not going to lie and say I wasn't rolling on the floor with excitement when the iconic 90's band, Hanson, announced and released they're new single, "Get the Girl Back." In fact, that's exactly what I did when I first heard the latest single from the band that brought the world the annoying pop hit "MMMBop" back in 1997. Of course, I am aware that they've made 4 other studio albums since they first appeared on the scene, but, apparently, the rest of the world didn't get that memo. And if you're thinking these guys still look like blonde girls, you are very very wrong.

While another certain trio of brothers also recently released a single that was of questionable quality after a hiatus, unlike them, Hanson is still making good music that is actually worthy of being heard. Because they don't need dancers wearing revealing clothing in all their videos to get attention. Just saying. 

I'm not going to brag or anything, but I totally met Hanson once. Sure, it really wasn't under the conditions and circumstances that every teenage girls concocts when she imagines meeting the band she's totally head over heels for, but I met them nevertheless.

Some bare feet ready to walk!

Okay, so for those who aren't up-to-date with all things Hanson, you should know that Hanson is a big supporter of TOMs shoes and the charity work that is done by them in Africa. To show their support, the guys started doing one-mile barefoot walks before their concerts to raise money. For every walker who signs up and finishes, a dollar is donated in their name towards education, fresh water, medical treatment, and shoes. The guys themselves participate in every walk they host. And that is where me meeting them comes in.


In August, right before my senior year of high school, Hanson did a show at Tulsa's historic Cain's Ballroom. I didn't actually get to go to the concert because it was a school night and I was lame and poor, but I did get to go do the walk with them. I took off my shoes and walked one mile in Oklahoma heat to raise money for the people in Africa... Or maybe I did it for the chance to rub elbows with some really awesome guys? The world may never know? Anyway, in the process of getting the most painful blisters known to man on top of pretty much the worst burns on my feet, I did get to have some

light-hearted conversations with Zac, Taylor, and Isaac.

Not only are these guys completely dedicated to their music, they are also genuinely nice guys. All three of them are married, have kids, and currently live in Tulsa. Thankfully, they avoided the horrid child-star flu and turned out relatively normal.

You should definitely go check out their latest single (now available on iTunes!), and maybe catch them on tour this fall!

For more information on Take The Walk, check out the official website!

This Is The Song That Never Ends

Have you ever had one of those days where you wake up and automatically have a really annoying or shitty song stuck in your head for no apparent reason whatsoever? Like, you literally just opened your eyes and already have a song thumping in the back of your mind?  I have those like every single day of my life. No lie. And it constantly forces me to ask myself "Why was I cursed with this ability to learn music so easily?"

Just the other day, I had a solid minute of John Denver yodeling stuck in my head... all day. Of course, I doubt anyone who reads this will be able to relate to that situation because no one actually knows who John Denver is anymore, but, trust me, it's not the most pleasant thing to have playing in your head while you're trying to conjugate Latin verbs. Just imagine if you had Jason Derulo saying "JAY-SON DE-RULO" in his stupid voice on repeat all day. That was the torture that was John Denver's yodeling.  The funny part is that I actually know the words to the rest of the song... not just the yodeling portion. Of all the segments of this song, my mind chose to cling to the most annoying one! Why, brain, why? 

Yesterday afternoon, my oldest sister, Rachel, texted me telling that she had an obnoxious song stuck in her head. She knew that I would understand her pain, and I did... Because I had The Beach Boy's "Kokomo" (and yes, it is a great song but not when it never ends... ever!) on repeat in my head at that same moment. I think it's because we have the same dad... and he kind of has a history of humming or whistling the same song for like a week. Growing up with that, we were destined to have the same fate.  I know Julia has the bug too. Ya know, the way she belts out into the Les Mis soundtrack or Lady Gaga's "Bad Romance" without warning... like she'd been planning it all along or something. 

The worst is when I'm in class and I've got this obnoxious chorus or verse stuck in my head, and I can't help but tap my pen or just full-blown sing aloud the words or music. Sure, I've got a great voice when I really try, but that doesn't always happen. Sometimes it just sounds like screeching, and I don't know
how many times is appropriate to apologize for my musical nature or the fact that I can't stop singing the exact same part of a song at every moment when I don't have anything to actually say. Btw, if I am stuck on a song, I will sing all the parts, so yeah. That's fun. (Nope.)

So, if you ever talk to me or sit next to me in class or at dinner or on a Friday movie night, just know that I probably have my own personal DJ playing in my head. Sure, you can ask what's on the playlist for the day, but I'd strongly advise against that due to the fact that I have very embarrassing taste in music. 

Songs referenced in this blog post:
Calypso by John Denver
Any song ever by Jason Derulo
Bad Romance by Lady Gaga 
Kokomo by The Beach Boys 

Excuse Me, My Brain Just Farted

I have hit a dilemma I can't bullshit my way out of. This unforeseen obstacle is a stress-induced writer's block. With less than 4 weeks left of the semester, I know I'm not the only one getting a little steamed from all the heat in the kitchen. I still have tests, papers, financial burdens, and the hive full of busy work still left on my plate before I can even begin thinking about summer vacation. But my stress ruins my life. It causes every single bit of me to go on standby (ie. sleep, weight loss, creativity, and my control to not eat everything in sight) for as long as I have this heaviness weighing down on my shoulders.

For my professional writing class, I have to write a 2000 word short story as the final assignment. While my peers are eager to scribble down plots and characters that would honestly be more appropriate for full-length novels or sagas, I am sitting there with a brain that has a horrible case of flatulence. Nothing is going on upstairs. I have nothing going for this assignment. I've turned to probing my friends, family, and Internet strangers for some kind of idea for this damn assignment, but even that doesn't help. I have tried listening to music, watching movies, reliving episodes of Degrassi before it turned into really ripe shit, and going out and doing things but nothing will unfreeze my brain. WHERE IS THE OVERRIDE BUTTON WHEN I NEED IT?  This is really embarrassing for me.


This doesn't happen to me. I am the queen of bullshit.

I am preparing to have a career that is centered around my ability to make shit up, and it scares me that
my stress might just jeopardize my dream of being cool enough to win a Poe bust like John Green.

Maybe if I just continue to listen to the song previews on the iTunes top 200 list, the creative energy of people who are creative for a living will just start seeping out of my ears and into my computer so that I can get this assignment started.  I mean, if the Jonas Brothers were able to come up with that pile of shit they call a new single, why can't I concoct a plot for this stupid short story? Maybe if I had type 1 diabetes, an Italian wife from New Jersey, and an ego bigger than Texas I'd be able to work some literary magic here. POOOOOOOP! 

I cry, and my tears are literary masterpieces I can't write.

But seriously.

Oh, well. Maybe I just need to take up heroine or whiskey like all the great writers of history to make wonderful stories and slowly kill myself as a bonus result.

Just kidding. Kids, stay away from drugs and alcohol. Eat your veggies. Keep your hands out of your pants.

My Internet Friends and Me

While a majority of grown-ups and people who were raised on something other than the great and power World Wide Web are hesitant to venture out into the not-so-safe areas of the cyber universe, I can say that I have been there and done that, and you what I figured out? Every adult who has ever told me that everyone on the Internet is a pedophile was lying to me. They all told me about the dangers of talking to strangers on the Internet, and I nodded in agreement, but my impressions of the lurkers of the Web quickly changed when I finally swam out and ... touched the butt.

When I was about 13 or 14, I got really into web design and web coding (because what 13 year-old girl doesn't love twiddling her fingers in Paint Shop Pro and CSS coding?). I fell in love with my hobby, and started looking for places to showcase my skills and knowledge. I joined staff teams for a few websites (run by young people) that specialized in graphics for, and don't you dare judge 13 year-old me, Neopets (yeah, like guild layouts and user-lookup layouts. I told you not to judge me). This gave me tons of practice to learn new coding and find new brushes and styles on Paint Shop Pro 9 (because I couldn't, and still can't, afford Photoshop at the time). Eventually, towards the end of 8th grade, I talked my dad into letting me buy my own domain and get paid hosting so that I could have my own website to offer graphics on. I called it InsaneTruth.net because I was lame and weird but thought I was insanely cool.

One of the last pieces of graphic design I did during my prime
(click for bigger view)

Anyway, around that same time, I had an affiliate (basically link 4 link, now) on my site and she had a message board (or mb if you want to be hip) called Splash MB on her domain. I joined it because why not? It was there that I ended up meeting my genuine best friends during high school. Everyone on there was between the ages of 12 and 18 and primarily female (with the exceptions of some...
questionable characters from the UK).

We all grew together and had inside jokes and leaned on each other during hard times and, yes, there was drama. I learned how to write fan fiction and about British television and who Gaspard Ulliel was. We fangirled over Twilight together... and then later hated every single aspect of it. Oh, and there was a fictional dude named Pedro, but that's a story for a night when I'm really drunk and full of pizza.

Eventually, the message board died, but I continued to talk to a couple of girls every single day on a website called Plurk (it's like twitter, but lame). We skyped, added each other on FaceBook, discovered Tumblr, and continued to grow as young women together. During late night skype sessions that were filled with gossip, innuendoes, and laughs, we put ourselves on the line and secured our most private secrets with each other. My life became full of sexy jokes about geometric angles, secret chatter about the French exchange douche, and Ringo Starr's dramatic plead for NO MORE FANMAIL. PEACE AND LOVE! We watched TV shows together and freaked out over bands (even ones each individual didn't care for... we just supported each other's interests no matter what). We had it made. We had a time...

Always and forever

Honestly, these girls probably know more about my four years of high school than I remember. They know every crush, every geometry class scandal, every single time I was blocked on FaceBook, every Jonas Brothers concert I ever attended, and even about the first time I fell in love. For someone who doesn't easily trust or open up about anything, looking back, I gave a lot of myself to those women.

We don't talk like we used to anymore. Some of us went off to college and started new lives that didn't allow us to spend every waking minute online, and others just matured out of the awkwardness of being in middle school and early high school. We're still FaceBook friends who wish each other the best on our respected birthdays, we follow each other's Tumblrs, and every once in a full moon, we catch up on each other's lives as if we never stopped talking.

You can say that online friendships don't count, but I'd like you to think about what makes a friendship. Is it seeing someone in person? Is it being in the same city? Being able to hug the other? No. Its none of those things. Friendships are made on trust and laughs and common interests. Distance means nothing. And that's what I had with these beautiful women.

So, thank you, Ale, Jellaw, and Roni. You guys will forever be in my heart. <3 

Release.

[The following is an excerpt from April 1, 2013]

It comes once the sun has risen and the beeping alarm blares once again in my ear. A moment of panic. A moment of mere heartache that thumps and pounds and thrashes inside of my chest at the speed of life. A gust of breath fills my lungs, and I remember why I didn't sleep well and why the gastric acids in my stomach are churning once again. Like every morning since the endless night.

I check my phone. The light blinds me briefly. My eyes adjust. Nothing. 


Am I a skeleton or girl? I cross my toes for luck. Get out of bed.

Please...

I brush my teeth, wash my face in the dark, put on a fresh pair of clothes that don't match or fit correctly because it doesn't matter either way. Like clockwork, I prepare for a day I must face exhausted and dazed and stressed beyond oblivion.  Guzzle 4 glasses full. Put on socks.

Did you put on socks this morning?

Check my email. Spam. Spam. Spam. Worthless school announcements. Spam. Facebook notifications. Spam. Delete my emails. All of them.

Should I eat? Am I hungry? Do I need this? I grab a cereal bar and call it a day with a side of multivitamins. Swig and swallow. Wrong pipe. Ouch. 

Did you remember to eat? 

40 days and 40 nights. A sigh of relief. A sigh of desperation calling for one more night, one more touch, one more heartbeat lullaby singing you softly to sleep. Hush. Hush. Don't wake. Don't stir. Hold me closer, tiny dancer....

The agenda is simple. Class. Eat. Class. Eat. Workout. Shower. Sit in wonder, procrastinating away until the due dates zoom in on the points of panic attacks and sleepless nights and falling eyelashes and bags of Sour Patch Kids on my tongue. And I wonder why I'm no fun. 15 minutes to kill.

Did you have a good yesterday? I wanna know. 

My mind blanks. I wonder about why it happened and why me and why you and why us and why the sun still shines even when you're not smiling. Can't stop thinking. I could have stopped this. I could have cried wolf. I could have saved you. Shame on me. Tsk tsk tsk.

Please...

Log-in. Tightened shoelace lungs. Dust bowl tongue. Goosebumps like rockets.

5 hours. 

Release. 

The Romantic Gesture

I write more about romantic stuff than I actually do romantic stuff. Is that part of the curse of being a damaged writer who is forever single? Probably. 

So, I saw this retweet by Taco Bell on twitter (duhhh) and it was a girl talking about how she got asked to her prom via a verde sauce packet. Like, I guess he got a packet that had a blank white place to write your own message and he wrote "Prom?" in the space and gave it to her. Okay, maybe it is just the hopeless romantic that nests in my body all year long talking and controlling my mind, but this totally made me want a boyfriend (and no, not a creepy guy from the internet). And so I started to think about all the perfect ways a guy could propose going steady with me or asking me on a date that would just be completely irresistible to my girlish wonder.

Number one, and this will forever be a school girl fantasy for me, is through one of those stupid elementary school check-yes-or-no notes. I don't know why this approach to romance is so damn appealing to me, but it I don't think I could ever not say yes to one of those bastards (unless, of course,
the guy was a bastard... and then the cards change). Of course, sadly, I'm at an age now that doesn't really think that kind of gesture is appropriate. Instead, we just bump and grind and have casual sex with people we have no emotional attachments to. Adulthood, everyone! 

Number two is really for my inner fatass... also, I kind of stole this from The Princess Diaries, so shoot me. Anyway, a guy orders me a pizza (preferably cheese because who doesn't like cheese? Oh, right. Lactose intolerant bitches!) and then has the pizza place write out "Will you... [insert desired action here]?" in Sour Patch Kids on top. I know, it sounds totally gross, but I would eat the Sour Patch Kids before eating the pizza... maybe. Okay, I'd totally try them together, but who cares?   But, really, who could say no to that? Personally, I can't say no to pizza ever, so that's the best way to win my heart.

-___- Desmond and Daniel = Constants 4ever

Number three is also food related (damn, how have I lost 65 pounds with this much food on my mind?).  Okay, so, the guy gets a custom fortune cookie fortune made and puts it in a fortune cookie (really, Angela? you don't say?) and gives it to me after getting me chinese food. Of course, the fortune says something really cute like "Hey, sexy. Be my constant. Love, Daniel Faraday" or "Eat together, fat alone. jk. Let's be fat together." The LOST references are not optional.

Finally, concert proposals. I have been to way too many concerts where girls get proposed to by their boyfriends on stage or during the show at some point. I want that. That is like the most badass gesture in the book of gestures. If a guy could get, say, Jon Foreman, lead singer of Switchfoot, or another relevant member of a band to be like "Hey, this guy loves you lots. Go out with him/ marry him, okay?" That'd probably have a very high feedback rating. But that's just my opinion.

So, pretty much, my stomach is my heart. But is that really a surprise to anyone? 

Musicians are SEXY!

Only half true, Napoleon. You forgot the hair.

So, back during my spring break, Bruce and I watched this movie called "Safety Not Guaranteed" (which, just incase you were wondering, was actually pretty cute if you're looking for one of those moderately sappy indie movies), and, in one of the scenes, the main female character listens to the main dude character sing and play a song that he wrote for his girlfriend. During this scene, Bruce asked why girls go gaga over guys with instruments or guys who can sing. And it got me thinking for a moment. WHY do girls go crazy over these dreamboats with extra filling (aka talent and cuteness combined)?

Now, I'm totally guilty of this. Thinking back on all of my celebrity crushes I've had over the years or even guys I got goosebumps for in the real world, a lot of them had some kind of artistic talent that set them apart from the rest of the herd. I mean, my first school girl crush, for the love of God, was a skilled drawer at the age of 8... And later in high school, I liked singers and writers. There is just something about how a guy can twiddle his thumbs and make amazing stuff come from the ordinary (whoa... that sounds dirty. And now I'm making you analyze what I just said.... and now you think I'm a pervert! Happy day!) that makes him like a million times more attractive instantly. Because, trust me, I've liked guys who, before I knew they had this hidden hotness talent, I didn't even give a second glance. And then WHAM! *instant lady boner from hearing Josh Groban*

Of course, not every single guy who has some kind of artistic ability is going have the girls on their knees begging "Please, baby, please!" It's a package deal, dudes. You gotta walk the walk and talk the talk... and have great hair and teeth. 

I've always considered art a doorway to the soul, so a guy that just puts his soul on the table like that without making a girl work hard looking for it... That's just really hot.

Honestly, I think a guy exposing that side of him is what makes him super attractive. Courage and confidence are hot. If a guy lets me read his writing or isn't afraid to sing in the car with me (because I can't resist a good car sing-a-long no matter how hard I try), that instantly becomes bonus points
on the scale of "Is this guy worth swooning over or not?" But it's not like EVERY single guy who does these things is going to get my heart racing. Just, if you've got the rest of the ingredients, the added spoonful of sugar on top just might make the cake.... or give me diabetes.

So, write me your poems. Tell me a story. Serenade me with the sweetest canticles of the John Denver variety. Doodle me a picture of a Scottish terrier eating my face off. Do your finest, sir.

Too bad you'll never live up to any of my unrealistic expectations due to the fact that I read Twilight freshman year of high school.

Oh No I Didn't!

The back of an angel.  (photo by me!)

So, 2 years ago, I was lucky enough to be invited to see Josh Groban in concert with my friend, Emma, and her mom. Dude, I love Josh Groban. He's probably the most "adult" singer that I listen to because I'm normally not into music that doesn't have some curve of angst in it (because it's totally not like I don't already have enough angst as it is). Anyway, when I found out that I was going to be seeing him I was like freaking out and preparing my acceptance speech to the spontaneous marriage proposal he would pull out of his pocket during the concert if our eyes should meet for a brief moment. Yeah, that is how much I love Josh Groban. Then again, who doesn't love Josh Groban? I mean, he totally kicks major ass in everything he does. You could probably say he really knows how to... RAISE things up. (Get it? Like, You Raise Me Up...like the song. Nevermind)

Okay. Back to my story. Damn. I'm ADHD right now.

So, we get to the BOK Center in Tulsa, and that's when I find out that we have freaking floor seats. Just FYI, in my adult life I have never ever ever had real floor seats to any concert, so this was a huge deal to me. Because everyone knows that most performers will travel through the crowd on the floor at some point during the show and that gives anyone an opportunity to touch the person they've just paid a ridiculous amount of money to see in concert. Then, when we were situated in our seats, suddenly something rather close to me and amazing caught my eye. 

It was a smaller stage. With a piano on it. A Groban-sized piano. 

So, I immediately turned to Emma. 

Me: Girl, what is that over there?

Her: What?

Me: That thing 10 feet away from us right now. 

Her: Oh my gosh.

Me: You don't think he'll be right there, do you?

Her: Oh my gosh. 

Me: *internally dies from the potential closeness of Josh Groban*

Her: Oh my gosh. 

So, then I just sat there totally flipping my shit because Joshua Winslow Groban might be super close to me any moment from then. And then his opening act came out. And that was alright. I don't remember much of that because of the amazing piano stage that was 10 feet to my left. Yes. It was like being at a funeral and having no choice but to think about the rotting corpse in the box in front of you. (Yes, I did just compare a lifeless body to a piano. Deal with it)

And then it happened. He came out. And began the show. On the piano. 10 feet from my body. 

I melted. 

He did his thing and I continued to melt onto the floor beneath me. His smooth vocals, piano-playing that could make miracles happen, and perfectly styled hair were flawless. The whole crowd was silent for lots of the show because we were all mesmerized by this God-like presence before us. I'd never been to a concert where the crowd wasn't 98% screaming teenage girls or drunk neanderthals, so this was a new concept to my mind. I loved it. 

My favorite thing about concerts are the stories that the performer(s) will tell during the show. Josh, thank the high Heavens above, did this at my concert. He talked about how he'd seen that Tulsa was having it's annual Mayfest (which the cute little idiot called May Fair... but I'll let it slide this time) and some other stuff. Then he told a story about how someone had made a tweet about how he wouldn't be caught dead at a Josh Groban concert. 

Unf. (photo by me!)

Now, what happened next can't be explained. 

Me: OH NO HE DI-DN'T!

Josh: *turns in my direction*

Josh: That's right! "Oh no, he di-dn't!"

Instantly, Emma's mom had her hands on my shoulders and she was saying that I'd talked to Josh. 

And I had.

I had spoken to Josh Groban. 

Truthfully, I didn't think he'd hear my yell because I'm just so used to not being heard, but he did. He acknowledged that my vocal cords had produced a sound that his ears understood. It was amazing. 

So, you see, I might just say things spontaneously sometimes, but sometimes that unflattering habit of mine can perform pop-opera miracles of the Josh Groban variety. So, anyone who says I need to keep my mouth shut can suck my big, fat one, okay? Because I know they haven't talked to Josh freaking Groban. 

Oh! The People You'll Meet At The Gym!

I'm a frequent frequenter (five stars for redundancy) of the gym. Like, I go maybe 5 times a week, so that's a lot of times and a lot of my time spent with sweaty strangers. And, over the course of my lifetime at the gym, I've seen a lot of types of people huffing and puffing and grunting beside me. I've actually come to categorize these people because, well, when you're just walking up an incline for an hour, you get really bored and need things to keep your mind busy.

So, I present to you: the people you'll meet at the gym.

1. The foreigners who don't understand the custom of wearing deodorant. Yes, I know that sounds terrible when you really think about it, but seriously. You are in America now. We have deodorant everywhere you can buy pretty much anything because people like to smell good. Now, because you don't wear deodorant when you workout, you smell like goat testicles. Okay, I don't actually know what goat testicles smell like, but I am sure that they don't smell like a walk through the freaking tulips. So, if you go into a gym in an area that is populated by people from other countries or just really any country where large quantities of body hair is popular, you're probably going to run into a few people who smell really freaking bad.

2. The bodybuilders who look like they have seriously been lifting weights since they moonwalked out of their mother's hooha. Yeah, you know who I'm talking about. I'm totally cool with the fact that they have muscles bigger than my head, but damn. Damn. Damn. Damn. How? Or, an even better question, where do you find shirts and pants that fit your humongous muscles? Well, I'm sure if I had their bodies, I just wouldn't even bother buying clothes. I'd just be like "Yo, check out my pectorals and other muscles that I don't know the names of! Bow down, puny peasants!" I mean, sure, it's a little intimidating. Like, I look over at the bodybuilders when I'm doing resistance training and I feel like I might as well not even try because look at their muscles. If you're like me, you might want to stay away from the big shots.

3. The girls who are going to run a 12 minute mile so they can feel slightly better about the amount of beer they'll be consuming that night. Yeah, I know what you're doing. After so many people plop down on the treadmill next to me and all do 12 minutes on it, I kind of get the picture. I mean, girl, I get it. I'd do the same thing if I had the social expectations of thirsty thursday riding on my gluts every week, but seriously. There are other things you can do besides that mile. I'm just saying. Yes, I know, I'm a gym snob. Sue me.) Plus, your hair looks way too neat for you to be at the gym. And are you wearing Chanel right now? But at least they didn't give in to pole dancing to burn their calories. Hola!

4. The people who are only at the gym because they decided to stick to their New Year's resolution. Finally, someone is saying it. I am totally supportive of the fresh meat that walks through the doors of the gym at the beginning of the year. I think that is fantastic that they are up for getting fit and healthy despite the unbelievable amounts of doughnuts and Big Mac's they ate the previous year. And, hey look, it's April and you're they're still here. That's even more impressive. I applaud your effort! And bonus points for not doing your hair or makeup before you came!

5. Old people! Okay, this is my favorite thing to see at the gym. Especially when it's elderly couples that exercise together. It kind of melts my inner bits and pieces every single time I see them. And what gets me is that they go hard when they workout. Like, they are there to win the gold and whoop some youthful ass with their age spots and war tattoos. They don't even have earbuds and an iPod. They are just loose skin and bones. And it's damn adorable. 

So, if you think you won't fit in at the gym and so you don't go, shut up. There are some real freaks at the gym. Myself included. So, just get up off your ass and go break a sweat. And, please for the love the good Lord upstairs, put on some deodorant. The world will thank you for that!