Embracing My Inner 12 Year Old

Sometimes, the reality of how cool I am NOT just kind of smacks me in the back of the head.

Like, right now.

I am going to a concert this weekend.

Except, in my head, this is what the above, simple statement looks like: OMG I am like, sooooo excited that I am going to this concert I can't believe I got tickets this is so crazy SQUEEEEEAAAALLLLL.

Also, I might be doing a little dance of excitement and joy. Not a BIG dance, mind you, just a little bitty one. In my chair. As I listen to the band that I am going to see this weekend. Who I love. In case you couldn't tell.

The Responsible Adult portion of my brain -- the part that likes to save money, get enough sleep, and remembers to go grocery shopping -- is usually much better at overriding the part of my brain that is perpetually a 12 year old fangirl. This tends to come in handy.

The Responsible Adult portion of my brain saw that the band is coming to a theatre near me. It registered that information and said sternly, NO. But it was too late. Fangirl was already awake and saw it too.

"WE ARE GOING TO THAT! WE'RE SO GOING!" she said, bouncing up and down and clutching her hair like an Ed Sullivan-era Beatles fan.

"NO!!!" said Responsible Adult. "It's on a SUNDAY. A SUNDAY NIGHT. And you have to work on Monday and you have trivia and you need to have your oil changed. Absolutely not."

Fangirl was abashed. For about thirty seconds. Then she said, as calmly as she ever says anything, "Screw you, Responsible Adult," whipped out a credit card, and logged into Ticketmaster. She was very quiet.
Until the confirmation came. Then it was all:  I CANNOT BELIEVE I'M GOING I CAN'T EVEN STAND IT!

Here's the thing. I have been to a handful of shows in the past several years, but none that I was beside myself with joy about. The last time I felt giddy-stupid excited, I WAS about 12. And going to see ...

well, it's embarassing. But I'll say it. Because I was 12 so I get a pass on this, right?

I went to see the New Kids on The Block. TWICE. And both times, I was completely, ridiculously, out of my mind with joy at the idea that I was there ... and THEY were there ... and it was filled with so much awesome that I thought my 12 year old brain might just explode.

So yeah. This weekend will be like that. I will dress inappropriately. I will scream my head off. I might crowd surf (okay, probably NOT). I may, if I find myself face to face with the lead singer (it could happen), completely lose my ability to articulate actual thoughts and find myself with a brain full of "...."

And I cannot wait.

I can go back to being a responsible adult on Monday, right?