That night, I went with my brothers and one of my sisters to see my favorite (don't laugh) country singer, Brad Paisley. A raging thunderstorm started up as soon as we made our way onto the lawn, and we were head-to-toe drenched before the openers finished. Nobody really cared, though, because it wasn't cold or anything. It just made the whole atmosphere a little more exciting. I had more fun in those few hours than I've had over the course of full weeks before. You're standing in a massive crowd, half the people around you are laughing, wearing trashbags on their heads to avoid the rain, and the other half are embracing the muddy surroundings and sliding around happily with their Natty Light.
I've seen Brad live three times, and it never gets old. His songs are funny and geeky, and all his lovey lyrics are about his long-time wife. He also, singlehandedly, makes short animated films to play on the big screen at his shows; in this year's, he was a scrawny, cowboy hat-clad superhero who had to fly over the world to save Carrie Underwood and other country stars from dinosaurs and such likely obstacles. He's so frigging cute. Pretty much everything about Brad Paisley appeals to me, from his stage personality ("Raise your beer if you're having the best night of your life! They can't arrest all of us.") to his lyrics, to his suspicious little smile. Y'all can hate if it makes you feel better, but frankly, I'm a little bit country, and I'm a lot proud of it.
This morning, I woke up looking like I'd been at a concert in a rainstorm the night before, with my hair a curly, congealed mess and my new purse on the floor smelling slightly like mildew. My parents were gone, moving my sister into school (she's a senior at OU with an actual apartment, so she's going a week earlier than I can move into my dorm), so I took advantage of the silence by taking a two-hour bath, reading, making waffles for one, and watching Flight of the Conchords. Lor and I decided to go buy designer cupcakes from a cute little shop a town over, and we each scarfed a shimmery pink one that tasted like berries and champagne. We then wasted some time driving around and, as usual, sang Miley Cyrus. This hangout was a lot less melancholy than a few days ago... but I suppose we'll really only get to see each other about once more before I leave.
After I dropped Lauren off, I went for a long walk with my mom and dog, and here I am now. I guess nothing hugely exciting has happened since I last wrote, but I feel like I'm entering into a new stage of grief. Or something. I'm still nervous and upset, but it's been plaguing me less. For now, at least-- no telling how I'll feel tomorrow. Ah, teenagerhood. How I adore your unpredictable, unavoidable mood swings.
Sexy: Um, duh. He's so nerdy! And so cute! I'm not asking you to strip to a wifebeater and grab a fiddle, but just listen to this song and admit that it's funny. That's all I need from you.
Unsexy: Refer to my tweet from this morning. I accidentally cut my leg while I was shaving, but I didn't notice it. It wasn't until I got home an hour later that I saw the bright red blood stain on my new shorts, which looks, obviously, like something other than a shaving nick. FML.
Chipotle burritos this year: 28
S'mores this summer: 6
Bye, guys! Hopefully I'll see you tomorrow. <3