Turn the Volume Down First. Trust Me.

If you've never gone to a "boy band" concert with a young girl who LOVES the band, you should. You really should. Take your daughter, your niece, your granddaughter or your friend's daughter. You won't regret it. I mean, you will regret it right then and there, when you're in the middle of it, but the memories will last a lifetime.

I recently took Zoe to the One Direction concert in Detroit. Joe and I got her tickets for Christmas last year and she's been waiting almost 8 months for the big day. A few months before, she starting talking about what we should wear to the concert. Really? All that came to mind for me was comfortable shoes and earplugs but she had something else in mind. She plotted out her entire outfit from the earrings to shoes. No kidding. Even decided, three weeks before, how to style her hair. Me? Not so much.

We went with Zoe's friend and her Mom and everyone (except me) decided that we should get there really early. So we arrived at 3:00 and the doors didn't open until 5:00. Concert to start at 7:00. First thing I needed to do was find a beer vendor, which I did. Seriously, screaming girls everywhere. Mobs of them. One Direction music pumping through the streets. Total counter culture.

The doors opened at 5:00 and again, I went searching for beer. The girls wanted to run right to our seats. And sit there for 2 HOURS. I vetoed and decided we should get something to eat. And more beer. The girls could barely stand it. Vibrating with the excitement of it all. We finally relented and went down to our seats (on the floor - thank you Amy!) to get situated. And we waited.

We were actually pretty close to the stage - the cat walk part of it - so the girls were already pretty fired up. After sitting there for an hour I decided to head up to the bathroom (you know, because of all the beer). No small task to hike all the way up there from the floor I might add. As I came out of the bathroom, a roar arose from the stadium. It was like a wall of sound that came up from the floor and rolled over the seats above. By the time it hit the bathroom exit I was frantically digging through my purse for my earplugs.

The shrieking of tween girls cannot be explained so much as experienced. It's a visceral reaction when you hear thousands of them at close range. As if an ice pick has been run in one ear and out the other. There is no escape. There is no turn of the head that will make it stop. You must just endure it.

And this roar? Was it because Harry, Liam, Niall, Louis and Zayne appeared on the stage? No. It was because they showed a COMMERCIAL featuring the boys. Dear God.

The video above is of when the boys hit the stage for their first song, Midnight Memories. To put it simply - Zoe. Lost. Her. Shit.   Mind BLOWN.

I will say this for the band. They were very polite and gracious. They thanked the fans repeatedly for their success and credited them for putting them where they are today. They took the time to smile, wave and wink at the girls. Niall (Zoe's favorite) actually pointed at her "I Love Niall" poster and smiled and waved RIGHT AT HER. She could have died right then and there a happy girl. Such a cool thing to have happen.

Now. Could the boys have put on some clean clothes and run a brush through their hair before the show? It certainly wouldn't hurt....

Stupid Fruit

Sometimes it just doesn’t pay to be friendly.  And yet, it’s who I am and it’s how I roll. I want everyone around me to feel comfortable and I want them to like me and think I'm nice. But sometimes I go too far and don't pull back when I should. Sometimes I just lunge into the abyss and FORCE myself on people until they simply can't take it anymore.

Such was the case during my last pedicure. I was introduced to a new nail tech at my very small salon. I kind of knew her "back story" (She is the owner's sister in law and not from here) a little bit and wanted to be friendly and welcoming to her. Total backfire.

We were just getting into the groove - had my polish picked out, kicking back in the chair, ready to roll. So I started with, "How long have you been in the country?"

She stopped what she was doing, looked up and replied, "Six years."

Oh.

"Where are you from originally?"

"Indonesia"

"It must be beautiful there?"

Again. Dead stop. "No. It's hot, muggy and full of volcanoes."

Oh. 

"So you don't go back much?"

"Once a year. To see my family."

 "Well that must be nice. It's on the ocean right? Do you get to spend time by the water?"

First of all, my geography skills suck. No idea where Indonesia is or what it looks like at all. Might have seen an "International House Hunters" episode about it once but that might have been somewhere else. Should have shut my mouth.

"No. I grew up in the middle of the island in the city. We never go to the ocean."

I was in a total nose dive at this point and should have stopped but I didn't. Because I never really know when to stop. It's a thing with me. 

"I bet they have wonderful fruit there." Totally flailing at this point. I'm thinking tropical fruit, straight out of some movie I once saw - South Pacific? Has to be beautiful, right? RIGHT?

"My daughter only eats strawberries and blueberries and they're $9.00 a pint there."

Aaaaannnnnd done. 

I "googled" a picture of the fruit. Yeah, I wouldn't eat that either.