Because it is freakin' snowing outside.
Yes that did call for the use of "freakin" (A word I generally try to exclude from my day to day verbal vocabulary, but today it's necessary.)
Why? Because the snow was gone. Gone. GONE.
And now? 3 inches by noon.
Granted, only a week ago, the snow in my back yard was piled higher than me. And three inches, in all likelihood won't even reach the top of my shoes. But still. It's the principal.
It's the fact that, we can't even pretend to play outside today. Or the fact, that Zach had to go to work in all of his snow gear, which I was actually contemplating putting away until next year. The fact that, I am going to have to finish taking out the trash("Finish" Because Zach actually took out the trash cans, but I didn't get the trash bags out last night, so I'll have to do it this morning) in the snow, and trudge through the slush, slipping and sliding the entire time just really, kind of, actually pisses me off.
So anyways. Moving on.
Last night, Zach took me to a Rock Concert.
I'm sorry. Let me clarify. It was most definitely not so much of a Rock Concert as a Punk Rock Show.
You know, Show? It was one of those concerts where the kids that usually attend, are the ones that only attend "Shows." They don't go to concerts, they go to "Shows."
That's enough of that, I'm sure you get my point.
Anyways, it was 4 Christian Punk Rock Bands at my Alma Mater... Grace.
Time Out: AJ(Dora the Explorer) just came in to the room and told me that her mom died after they cut her open so her older sister could be born, but then when AJ was born she just slipped right out. Kids say the darnedest and grossest things some times.....
Time In: Ok, first of all, let me just say that in general, Zach and I are not, by any possible means, Concert or Show type of people. Like, we don't' hate on people who are, but we are both products of a Christian High School that had Banquets instead of Proms and therefore our concert abilities to sway and dance to the music are lacking to say the least.
I mean there wasn't even a dance at our wedding. And it wasn't because of some moral obligation we had to believe that all dancing is a sin or dancing leads to sex. That's a rather outdated philosophy. The truth of the matter is. Sex leads to Sex. (I know, I'm a genius. You heard that original thought here first folks.) :) Just kidding. Anyways, the dance was absent from our festivities because neither one of us knows how to dance. And might I add, sure we could have learned, but it's more than just knowing how to sway your hips and where to place your arms. A lifetime of Homecoming Dances and Proms breeds confidence, you understand how to dance in front of or around other people. Sure we could have attended Ballroom Dancing Lessons, but that would not have prepared us to dance the Samba in front of a Live Studio Audience.
We were both terrified just to say our vows. Not the meaning of them. The actual talking in front of all of those people. I mean, that's a lot to remember. What if I didn't hear the pastor right? Or what if I wasn't listening my best? Or what if I simply forget, which I have for sure been known to do.
Don't worry, we made it through. And as it turns out our pastor actually talked about sex for a good 20 minutes. Let me just say, it got a little uncomfortable.
Ok, back to last night.
So. The reason we went to the "Show" in the first place was because Zach works with two of the guys that were in the first band: From Dust. And he's pretty close to them, so we went to show our support of sorts.
They were the opening act and by default, ok, more than default, my favorite of the night.
There are times when I talk about feeling like a child, an infant in a woman's body.
Last night, was not one of those nights.
I was wayyyyyyy to old for the festivities that ensued.
After the first band, the music only got louder, and louder, and louder, and louder, and louder. I am not kidding you, there were young teenagers walking around with ear plugs in. The smart little bastards. Me? No such luck, so today I still have the remnants of a headache and feel like I'm in a tunnel.
This wasn't just live music, ok. This was scream into the microphone for hours at a time.
The headlining band was Project 86 if you've heard of them.
One band in particular was out of control. Before they got up there I noticed they had a banjo and bag pipes(Complete with a matching bag-pipist wearing a kilt, a hat and the whole nine yards). Ok, as a former music major, those are seriously two of my favorite instruments, especially in a live band kind of format. I was worried though, because if you've ever heard a bag pipes live, you know that it can be ear splitting loud. LOUD.
When the band actually started playing however, the bag pipes were practically unrecognizable, and completely drowned out underneath the screaming and drums.
Yikes. I mean that is over the top loud.
But it wasn't just the sound that made me feel old. It was the activity.
There was a bit of "moshing" happening when we walked in and through the first two bands near the front of the stage. Nothing intrusive and in my mind at the time, totally acceptable for this kind of venue.
It was when the third band, the bagpipe band, hit the stage that things really took a turn for the out of control!
The first notes were played and suddenly a frenzy of insanity began to circle the floor. Literally. Literally, people started running in this manic, bull-dozing circle that would knock poor-unsuspecting-accidentally-too-close-to-the-circle-of-death-victims off of their feet, to the floor, left to be trampled and stomped on.
Thankfully, Zach and I are back-of-the-room kind of people. Because it was pure insanity.
At one point, the lead singer had the room divide in half, stare at each other, make bull horns with their hands and then rush each other, like BraveHeart. I'm not kidding you; it looked like Scotland trying to win their Independence from England and the band leader thought himself William Wallace.
Out of Control.
At another point, the banjo player encouraged the circling group to make two circles running in opposite directions. And maybe this had worked at other performances, but unfortunately the youth of Omaha Nebraska are not this talented. It was like head on collision after head on collision for a good ten minutes.
Um guys? Something's not working here, maybe we should try something else-Never crossed their mind.
Yikes. I am too old for that.
I saw a couple of people I knew, from the old days at Grace, but even I couldn't find a way to say hello to them. How could I, when screaming to Zach at the top of my lungs directly into his ear wasn't enough. We had to text each other to be understood.
But it was fun. Like once-in-a-really-really-really-long-while kind of fun. And I always appreciate music. In all of it's forms. That is if you can call that music. I'm still not so sure.
See, I sound older already.
Who is Rachel?!?
Rachel Higginson is the author of The Five Stages of Falling in Love, Every Wrong Reason, The Star-Crossed Series, Love & Decay Novella Series and much more!
She was born and raised in Nebraska, and spent her college years traveling the world. She fell in love with Eastern Europe, Paris, Indian Food and the beautiful beaches of Sri Lanka, but came back home to marry her high school sweetheart. Now she spends her days writing stories and raising five amazing kids.
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