"You should totally blog that!"
"One time, when I was blogging, I..."
"I blogged that picture the other day!"
"Oh ya, I know her, she blogs too!"
"NO WAY! I didn't know you were a blogger!?"
Now I would like to point out that each of these conjugations of the word "blog" are useful, real and are begging to be said out loud, emphatically.
In other news, I dropped my Blackberry (the cell phone, not the fruit) in the toilet and it still works. I let it dry for a couple of days (on my sister Ali's instructions, she has dropped numerous phones in puddles and "refurbished" the carnage with great success) and it works great. I'm sure the fact that it was dropped in clean water had a great deal to do with its perfect rebirth.
Right. So then I went to a concert with some friends. During which we spotted the !Oh! !My! !Heavens! drummer for Dashboard Confessional whom from far away we thought was the lead singer (by his tattoo of all things). I flagged him down because after all, what's so fun about being 28 if you can't act like you're 17? So. We got a picture with good-smelling-drummer-man hours before his show but not before he must have spent hours parting and gelling his hair. Which I would never know because as everyone can probably tell, I spent NO time on my hair and certainly look pregnant in this picture (which I certainly am NOT).
This show consisted of: Piebald, Limbeck, Love You Long Time, The Format, Aquabats, Colbie Callait, Toad the Wet Sprocket, and Dashboard. Before D.C. came on (1030pm) I was thinking of my flexible work schedule and how because I had been at the concert most of Saturday night I would have to be up until 4 a.m. working to make up my hours. So. I toyed with the idea of skipping Dashboard because they are oh so... "yell about High School and hair and vindication". But, I stayed. And I screamed and jumped a lot. And then the little mom of two went home and worked her hours and then crawled into bed beside her husband and smiled.