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A Torrential Downpour

3 Apr

I was caught in a torrential downpour last Monday as I was walking home from school.  The umbrella did not help any, but I continued to hold the damn thing up.  I was mostly soaked when I arrived home.  As I was walking, though, I noticed something interesting from the cars passing by:  They slowed down when they saw me.  They slowed down and they tried to avoid the giant puddles in the street.

Which was the exact opposite of what happened during a storm in Peoria, IL.  I remember walking home with Adam from a movie night on campus.  It had been raining, but mostly stopped by the time we left.  We were passing by a large puddle (there were many in Peoria as the drainage was exceptionally bad).  I heard a car approaching us from behind.  I dropped the umbrella to my side, towards the road, in an attempt to block the oncoming splash.  I realized only a split second before the splash that the umbrella would not block the water there.  The water kicked up over the umbrella and down onto my head anyway.

The windows were rolled up, but I’m sure that bastard was laughing.


When I Was New to the Internet

25 Mar

When I was new to the internet, Ellie said LMAO in a chat.  I was hurt.  I thought she was calling me a “Lame-o.”

Flogging Molly at the Fillmore

22 Mar

Last month, I got the opportunity to see Flogging Molly at the Fillmore in Miami Beach.  It was one of the greatest concert experiences I have ever had.

A friend from school was kind enough to invite me along with his family.  We got dinner on the ride down to Miami Beach and arrived at the theater in time to catch most of the two opening bands the Drowning Men and Moneybrother.  (I particularly liked Moneybrother.)

Before the most of the crowd returned, J (my friend’s sister) and I decided to head down to the front for a better view.  We moved up to the first gate, which was about 5 feet from the stage.  There were people standing in the first 5 feet, but they had wristbands.  We watched a couple people without them get turned away by one of the employees.

While the techies and roadies worked the stage, J and I stood at the gate and watched.  Shortly thereafter, we were approached by one of the Fillmore employees.  He held out a handful of the wristbands and asked, “Would you ladies like some?”

We gleefully accepted and bounced our way up to the stage.  We stood among a wide variety of people, including a handful of preteens with their mother.

The concert started and we were close enough to be spit on.  It happened a couple times.

I have been in only a few mosh pits before, but this was a wholly different experience. It was more likely that you would be tackle hugged than tackled. I lost count of all the sing-alongs and shrieks of joy.

The concert ended. I was in tears, so moved by the music. The bassist (I think?) moved towards the crowd and reached out his hands. I was so certain he was going to attempt to crowdsurf, I reached out and took his arm (along with another concertgoer). Instead, he jumped down into the crowd.

He took my face in his hands, asking what I thought of the concert. I could barely speak. I whispered and nodded, “This was the best concert ever.”

A boy launched into the crowd from behind me. He looped one arm around the musician and another around me and screamed, “Take a picture, take a picture!” Cameras flashed around us, and he finally turned. He kissed me on the cheek. Then he chirped, “I love you!” and ran off.

And those last few minutes really embodied the entire feeling of the concert.