LIGHTS LIGHTS EVERYWHERE

I accompanied another friend of mine today, Mr. C, to a concert he'd purchased tickets for three months ago. Prior to the concert, we had sushi. Maguro sashimi is now my second-favourite food of all-time.

The concert itself was a very good show, however I could not spend more than a few seconds before knitting my brow, pursing my lips, and nodding sagely.

So this is what scene kids listen to.

Disclaimer: Mr. C himself is not a scene kid, but the artist has a rather unfortunate fanbase.

Turns out she actually has talent. An impressive and controlled vocal range, three instruments, geeky references every other line of practiced dialogue. There was even an acoustic version of the Bed Intruder Song. Heck, I'd love her if I didn't find her sound terribly generic, says the girl making fun of the hipsters surrounding her in the crowd.

We waited outside for a while afterwards, standing anxiously by the metal banisters in hope to catch a glimpse of the show's star on her way back to her tour bus. I held out as long as I could in the meager -2C weather, yet I had to leave him behind in consideration my bus home stops running at midnight.

I arrived at the bus stop at midnight. It didn't help than my phone had apparently died sometime during the evening and I hadn't noticed because I'd put it on silent.

My wonderfully generous mother seemed strangely happy to pick me up, as if it were a welcome excuse to get out of the house. We then went to Denny's and I had a Belgian waffle soaked in strawberries and whipped cream. Spontaneity comes from my mother's side of the family, and I love her for it.

I do hope Mr. C managed to snag himself an autograph.