ThnxFrthMmrs

This weekend involved one of my chosen family coming up from CA for a weekend of lazing about and then going to the Fall Out Boy concert. This is a thing with us, because a few years ago I flew down to CA to go to a FOB concert with her. (That previous concert had far superior opening acts, because one of them was Panic! at the Disco.)

I have various tags that are some version of "Pete Wentz is not an emotional role model", and it is the general opinion among my friends that Pete Wentz is the boy version of Tori Amos (he totally is!), but what that really means is FOB consistently has really good lyrics that can be very emotionally powerful*. Add the fact that Patrick Stump (the lead singer) has a fantastic voice and is pretty much a musical prodigy who can write insanely catchy hooks, and you end up with the reason(s) why I get defensive when people dismiss FOB as emo trash.

So anyway, the concert was amazing. Pyrotechnics! Parts of the stage raised really high up with complicated cables and machinery! Pete Wentz being sweet and earnest, Patrick Stump being all-around adorable and talented! They performed many of the songs I imprinted on during times of stress and crazycakes! And I was there with two of my very favorite people.

Also, I love concerts in general. I love the feeling of a wall of music enveloping you. It's one of those things that helps ground me.




*While I adore MCR and The Cure, FOB are the only band who's lyrics I've ever considered as a tattoo: "My childhood spat back up the monster that you see". I know it's a little long for a tattoo, but I still occasionally think about getting it.

Uuggggh

Apparently today is a day where I am too tired and in too much pain to stand for any length of time at my fancy standing desk.

(This was probably not helped by my stripping the bed, trundling up and down the basement stairs doing multiple loads of laundry, remaking the bed, emptying the dishwasher, and doing some other dishes by hand.)

Ow. Ow. Stupid flare-ups.