2005-02-23
declaration of holidays involving excellent tenors
Josh Groban is my personal god.
Shut up Mr. Pope-man, I don't subscribe to your religion so it's not heresy. Nor do I know how you got in here. Security...security!
Alright, crazy self-induced fantasy about the Pope of all paples...I mean people aside,the concert was last night. The Josh Groban concert I've only been looking forward to since the day I heard the first strains of Alla Luce Del Sol. Holy europudding batman! That was perhaps the best night ever.
He told me I was excellent. I shouted out "You're excellent" and he said "thank you, you're excellent too." I also infiltrated the third row for a brief period of time and got to watch Vincent(Starry Starry Night)close up. There were tears streaming. Oh and holy violin player. If Josh Groban is my Jesus, Lucia Micarelli is my Mary. No lie. Ok, maybe that is a lie because that's a little weird. Wow. Coming back to Earth now in t minus 3,2,1,.
Also, he danced around in a cheesehead crown, wore a Packers jersey[which made me gag a little i'll admit]and broke a huge piece of a gigantic Hershey bar with his elbow getting chocolate all over his[more than likely]Armani suit jacket. He threw chocolate at some PMSing drooling middle-aged women who put my mother to shame in the crazy department.
There were three encores. Three. The last song was his rendition of "America" by Simon and Garfunkel. Just Josh and a piano. And three bazillion hormonal women falling off the mezzanine railings. One of them was me.
I totally tried to meet him but Miss Linguist, being so French about everything and hating life more than ever at that particular moment[which is a terrible moment to have that kind of particular moment...it's Josh Groban, shuttup ma]didn't want to get home too late. I was so pumped too. I had my piano book for him to sign and everything.
So we're driving home and I am drifting off to sounds of Josh Groban in my ears[telling me I can be the mother of his children...his life partner..whatever they call it these days]and Miss Linguist says "Look, there's his tour bus", I jolt up to see a f-ing pig truck go by. Ahaha you pessimistic wine-maker. Go bother the English why don't you.
All in all the best and most disappointing day of my life. God, that is another thing to list of why I love Tuesdays. Tuesdays mean Josh Groban day. From henceforth to thereforth and beyond I will have to play Josh Groban every Tuesday so I can remember. Keeping the ticket also helps. So do the pictures. Still, Josh Groban Tuesday is now an Ahna official holiday.
I'm sick. Real real sick. Mentally pathetic. Woah. Holy damn.
In other news:I found a chain link with my name on it. Attached was Ryan's name and Reginald's name. Meh, karma really is a tricky mistress. She never gives you any rules to play by, she just lets your ass end stick out in the air as a target.
Quote of the day:"Thank you, you're excellent too!"-[Josh f-ing Groban]