Tag Archives: concert


May 21, 2015


It has truly been such a wonderful day.

My goodness.

I’d like to think that I spend my days surrounded by good people. And I do. But my favorite times are the ones I get to spend with the people I love. Tonight, I saw Andy Grammer in concert with a group of some of my closest friends from high school. And to sound like a horribly cliché country song—there really is nothing like friends, music, summer, dancing, and just enjoying life. (I feel like I’m re-living my lessons from last summer… coming full circle, eh?)

We had a great time laying on our blankets; talking, eating, taking pictures. As show time grew closer, we moved to the front of the stage (thank you intimate music venues) to get a good spot—and we did. The show was awesome. Not only is Andy Grammer beautiful, but he is also outrageously talented and incredibly nice. His band was absolutely amazing, and hilarious too. I can’t even begin to tell you how crazy good the energy was. The entire stage was full of life. The passion they had for what they were doing and the fun they were having on stage lit up the entire park. It was really, really nice to be there.

At the end of the show, the drummer threw his drumstick into the crowd and for once in my life, it landed right by me. When I went to pick it up, a girl flew to the ground and held on to it for dear life. Next thing I knew, we were both clutching this stick—literally a stick—and no one was letting go.

I’m not into causing a scene. And it’s kind of, like, a piece of wood.

So I let go.

Everyone was like “WHY DID YOU DO THAT” and “YOU SHOULD HAVE HELD ON TO IT” and I was just like “Eh.”

It wasn’t just that I didn’t want to wrestle this random girl in the middle of a public vicinity for a drumstick. But it’s just that I really didn’t need it.

I’ve been thinking a lot about memories lately.

Memories are so fleeting, and I think that’s why, as people, we are so attached to material things. This is why we’re always taking pictures and collecting treasures; we’re capturing moments with things we can hold or something we can see with our eyes. Tangible things are there. They’re proof. But memories are scary because one day they’re here and the next they’re faded, then gone.

But the truth of it all is—the material things are no less fleeting than memories themselves.

It’s not like we can take these physical things with us wherever we go.

And even if we could—tangible things get lost too.

This is not to say that material things aren’t important, because I think I’ve made it clear that they are.

But I guess all I’m saying is that memories are special.

They’re different,

because they’re apart of us.

And while we may not have something to show for it,

we hold them near and dear to our heart for as long as they mean something to us.

And I’ll remember this night for a long, long time.

It’s crazy how the most simple times and moments can be the best, and can instantly bring a smile to our face.

I may not have gotten the drumstick.

But I got a kick ass night with my friends that I won’t forget.

Oh—and I got to meet Andy Grammer too.

I think that beats the drumstick.

Day 303.



Lesson #277: Thanks, Jesse McCartney.


Thanks to Jesse McCartney,

I now know that it’s possible to revert back into a 14-year-old girl.

I finally lived out my childhood dream of seeing Jesse McCartney in concert.

And I melted.

Like, peel-me-off-of-the-floor melted.

It was possibly the best hour and a half of my life. Even with no space to move, undesirably touching sweaty people I had never met, and constant pushing.


So today’s lesson?

You’re never too old to feel young again.

Heck, you’re never too young to feel young again.

Live out an old dream every once in a while.

You may find a piece of yourself that you forgot you loved.

If nothing else, it’ll just put a big smile on your face.

Day 277.

Lesson #49: Messages from Maryland.


Hello Maryland.

I’ve learned quite a lot of things in the past 24 hours, since my macaroni and cheese epiphany.

I know I’m supposed to write one lesson today, but.

When you’re on the move, life moves with you.

Motion brings energy. Energy brings life. And life brings lessons.

I figured many small lessons can amount to one big one.

Or they can stand on their own. And that’s cool too.


Don’t use Benadryl cream as toothpaste.



DC traffic is not a game.

It’s really not.


The guy in MKTO was in As The Bill Rings.

And he is very attractive.

And he also has tattoos.

And I think I am in love.


Demi Lovato is a queen. She continues to slay the music scene, while speaking up as humanitarian and taking form of a flawless human being simultaneously, no big deal.


It’s really good to talk about your past. You start to make sense of it and other people can learn from it and then it’s best to stop talking about it. You are not your past. It’s made you who you have become, but it is not who you are. So stop dwelling on it. Go build yourself again.

(Demi speaks to my soul, what’s new)


Singing loudly on the street doesn’t make you a good singer. But it’s fun.


Technology fails you. But your eyes are pretty good too, don’t forget about those.


Soft pretzels are great. Happiness with salt on top.


You will get stuck. The answer is self-forgiveness. Allow yourself to move-on.

(Christina Perri is a wise, quirky, and lovely lady whom I have recently grown fond of)


Apparently I look 15.


Day Forty-Nine.

Lesson #24: I Lived.


Lessons come in many forms.

They come in the form of experiences. They come in the form of words.

They can even come in the form of art.

And tonight, it came in the form of music.

If you’ve been following my blog, or my ridiculous life on social media, you know I’ve been to quite a few really great concerts this summer.

But tonight, The Script and OneRepublic blew everything else away.

I could go on for hours about how phenomenal they were. How genuinely passionate, purely and truly talented, hilarious, and entertaining both of the groups were. But this is a lesson, not a concert review, so I’ll unfortunately have to spare you the greatness.

I’m a huge fan of a few of their songs, but the last song in OneRepublic’s set I was unfamiliar with.

It’s called,

I Lived.

Before I say anything else, I’m just going to let you read these lyrics.

“I Lived”

[Verse 1]
Hope when you take that jump
You don’t fear the fall
Hope when the water rises
You build a wall

Hope when the crowd screams out
They’re screaming your name
Hope if everybody runs
You choose to stay

Hope that you fall in love
And it hurts so bad
The only way you can know
Is give it all you have

And I hope that you don’t suffer
But take the pain
Hope when the moment comes
You’ll say…

I, I did it all
I, I did it all
I owned every second
That this world could give
I saw so many places
The things that I did
Yeah, with every broken bone
I swear I lived

[Verse 2]
Hope that you spend your days
But they all add up
And when that sun goes down
Hope you raise your cup

I wish that I could witness
All your joy and all your pain
But until my moment comes
I’ll say…

I, I did it all
I, I did it all
I owned every second
That this world could give
I saw so many places
The things that I did
Yeah, with every broken bone
I swear I lived

Yeah, with every broken bone
I swear I lived
Yeah, with every broken bone
I swear I lived

I, I did it all
I, I did it all
I owned every second
That this world could give
I saw so many places
The things that I did
Yeah, with every broken bone
I swear I lived.

Lately, I’ve felt this certain disdain towards myself.

Please, I’m not asking for a pity party.

I’m just being real with you.

This certain disdain has been nagging at me, because lately I have felt like a lot of my feelings towards certain things have been invalid. Like I’ve had no right to feel them. Like I shouldn’t feel them. Like I have felt them too deeply. That I care about certain things too much. Or that I care about certain people too much. Or too little. Like I shouldn’t have told them that. Like I shouldn’t have told them all of that. Like I am too vulnerable now. Or I am not vulnerable enough. (Maybe I need to remind myself of Lesson #2…)

I’ve realized, the only person convincing myself to feel this way… is me.

I need to leave my feelings alone.

I’m literally bullying them into something they are not.

How can you feel your own feelings wrong?

And this is why I immediately fell in love with this song.

It’s telling you to live.

Live deeply.

Live with every last piece of you.

Life isn’t just about seeing all that you can, or doing all that you can.

Life is about feeling everything that you can.

And feeling it fully.

It’s about experiencing every inch and corner on the spectrum of emotions.

I’m not telling you to be a psychotic lunatic.

We don’t want to have to chain you up, please.


I am telling you,

OneRepublic is telling you,

whatever you are feeling, feel it.

And it’s completely valid.

Love deeply.

Laugh deeply.

Be on a complete high.

Be on a complete low.

Be entirely worn out. Be entirely alive.

Be happy. Be angry. Be sad. Be excited.


And don’t be ashamed or scared of be-ing.

After all, we are human beings.

Never be embarrassed, or humiliated, or reluctant, or regretful of your feelings.

Because, well, that’s just how you feel.

And that’s life.

I now know that that’s actually life.

Ryan Tedder, the lead singer of OneRepublic, said he received a letter tonight right before he went on stage from a person in the audience, saying that this very song saved their lives.

How powerful is that?

Thanks to this song, that person is going to live.

That person is going to feel.

Art is my favorite kind of lesson,

because we each get a different, unique lesson from it.

We each get keep our own little special message.

And this is what I got from this song.

That is what that anonymous audience member got from this song.

From this piece of art.

From this lesson.

What did you get?

Day Twenty-Four.

Lesson #10: Coming together reminds you that…


Tonight, I had a kick-ass time at the Fall Out Boy and Paramore concert with my two really good friends. I mean, honestly, there’s never anything not fun about good live music, dancing until the stars come out, and watching sloppy drunks fall over each other (as long as they aren’t close enough to spill beer on you).

I could pass on the traffic and $15 hot dogs, though.

I didn’t know every song, I still don’t know every band member’s name, I wasn’t drunk, or high, or with a big group of friends.

Before you get to thinking, “Why was she even there.”

I’ll tell you why.

Because I live for moments like these, and I had forgotten that until now.

It’s amazing what happens when people come together.

Not only are the two bands phenomenally talented (I mean, like, really really good), but they had the power to bring all of these people together. Here, for one night.

When is the last time you were surrounded by a group of people, and you actually just looked around?

Looked at all the people gathered there, around you? With you? All the bodies, the faces, the energy?

Maybe I’m getting at something else here.

Not just looking, but appreciating.

Society has us eating out of its palm, celebrating and worshipping our individuality. You are unique. You are different. There is nobody like you.

This is true.

But like I said, I had forgotten, until now.

Maybe, sometimes, the idea of being an individual gets to be too much pressure. It gets lonely. It gets too much to bear. Sometimes, we just honest to God need a break from ourselves. We need to temporarily step away from our own little worlds, our own lives. We need to step away from our corner, and step outside.

Sometimes, it’s comforting and reassuring to be reminded that we aren’t just one, but we are many.

Yes, we are individuals.

It’s kind of awesome.

But what may be even more powerful than that, is that we are all the same. We are all just… here.

We’re all living and surviving and breathing.

I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s just something beautiful about a group of people coming together.

…And the old man completely rocking out by himself in front of you.

Side note: He was honestly my hero. These are LITERALLY my favorite kind of people. (DIDN’T GIVE TWO FUX WHAT ANY OF Y’ALL HATERS WERE THINKING ABOUT HIM)

These are the nights that remind you.

These are the moments to live for.

These are times that are telling you, that are screaming to you,

there is a bigger, better world outside of yourself.

The crazy thing is,

These are the moments that happen every day.

But we just let them slip by.

And we shouldn’t.

So, I guess my lesson of the day is, appreciate the much overlooked and underrated beauty in numbers. The power in numbers. The magic in numbers.

It’s around you every day, dude.

But my question of the day is…….

…Who gets this out of a concert?

I laugh at myself sometimes.

I’m telling you, it’s something about music, man.

Day Ten.

her favorite moments