It all began one school night when I received a text message telling me that MGMT's new album had been leaked and was now posted on their website. Because dear old Rolling Stone had told me a few months back, I knew that their album "Congratulations" was to be released sometime in the spring of 2010. They left me waiting, and the night finally came. Ms. Co-Blogger here told me that their album had been leaked, and MGMT just decided to post it on their website for all to enjoy. It was too late for me to listen to the whole album, so I rushed into the living while trying not to wake anybody up in the house to find my mother's credit card. Don't worry! I wasn't stealing or anything, and I wrote her a little note that said I was going to pay her back. I ordered the SPECIAL LIMITED EDITION ALBUM WITH SCRATCH-OFF COVER (because yes, I still do buy ALBUMS! I'm doing the unthinkable, I know) along with the $4 LIMITED EDITION LITHOGRAPH POSTER (which was well worth its money) and slept well that night.
One day while staying after school to work on the school newspaper, I was doing something off-task and trying to postpone editing the various technical mistakes of my story that I had written when I checked my email. There I found a message. From MGMT. Telling me about their upcoming concerts. Needless to say, I freaked out and called the first two people who came to mind: my dearest co-blogger and a mutual friend, Elizabeth. After about 30 calls to each of them telling them my reason for calling and just why it was so important that they pick up their phones, Co-Blogger called me back and shared in my euphoria. I told her how the tickets for our particular city had not yet been released for the presale; as cunning as they come, she insisted that she try to buy a trio of them for the friendship triangle previously described. When I went to dinner later that night, she reported back and joyously exclaimed that she had bought the tickets for us.
The months went by, and the day of the concert finally came near. In April of this year, I tried out to be an officer on my drill team and fortunately made it. It was a long and strenuous process filled with interviews and the creation of extensive portfolios, and I couldn't have been happier...Until I found out that officer camp, a camp where the new officers learn routines and leadership skills, happened to land on the night of the concert. I didn't want to seem ungrateful for the role, but I asked my director if I could possibly leave for approximately five hours to go see my "favorite band". The response was a kind "no", and I was initially heartbroken but eventually got over it. Until the after concert texts started flooding my inbox.
After finishing up the last scheduled event for the evening at camp, it was about 12 in the morning, and I ran upstairs in the hotel to grab my phone (since they weren't permitted to be seen during the day at camp. Convenient, huh?). I about died when I saw that I had received a voicemail from Elizabeth. She had called me and let me listen in on "Song for Dan Treacy" because she knew that I could not be there. It made me smile like some crazy person and I began to furiously text the both of them.
We were on our way to get ice from the dispenser down our hallway when I got the message. When I scanned the text message and saw that it was in all caps and void of exclamation points, I knew that my partner in crime was serious. I still remember it clearly: OH MY GOD. WE MET THEM AND HAVE PICTURES. The message continued, but I don't remember the rest of it; I was too busy screaming and jumping up and down. Seriously? I hope I woke somebody up; they would have gotten a good night's sleep had I been allowed to go, so deal.
So let's do some analyzation. I didn't get to go to my favorite band's concert. Cool. Once I had gotten over not being able to go, my friends meet them and take pictures with them. Even cooler. I'm going to Los Angeles this summer, but happen to be coming 10 days before MGMT's going to be there. Epitome of cool. My mother will not permit me to go to Lollapalooza, where they will be playing for about a full hour and a half. What did I do to deserve this?
The concert was over a week ago and I still bring it up in everyday conversation to whine about my misfortune. At least Ben Goldwasser signed something for me, but it still somehow just doesn't suffice.
No comments:
Post a Comment