One for the Music

Listening to Taylor Swift feels like hanging out with an old friend. The super cool kind who just got back in town from her long tour and hasn't changed one bit. Still nice, even after all the glitz and glamour. Then she keeps on talking about the exciting things that happened to her--her dates with John Mayer, the way she turned down Taylor Lautner, the emotional stress of dealing with Kanye West's shit...and she won't stop talking.

I'm telling you this because my sister reserved three tickets for her concert this February. My sister, her boyfriend, and I. Yes, it's probably going to be weird. And yes, I am obviously the third wheel.

But there's something you have to understand about my sister. When I first found out I was beginning to have feelings for a guy a few years back, I told her immediately. She just got back from Baguio, and I sat with her at once to tell her the story. Thereafter I told her about every single boy that mattered. She wasn't necessarily crazy about it and at times even treated the entire thing with distasteful mockery, but that's how we are. That's how we express our twisted love for each other.

There you go. I'm going to my old friend's concert with my sister and her boyfriend, and it's probably going to be awkward, but who the hell cares. I'm fucking excited.

I'm not listening to her album at the moment though. Because like any friend who keeps on talking about her life alone without even asking how I'm doing, she can get overbearing. I'm listening, currently, to this:

I love Brandon Flowers. I love, LOVE Brandon Flowers.

I like the tone of his voice. I like the fact that he's bisexual and yet happily married with two children. I like how he acts in this video and how weirdly inappropriate it is.

His album is great. Promise. I hope he goes solo for a while, because his music sounds better on his own. I still love the Killers though. How can I forget the time when I tracked down the lyrics to every song of Day and Age and tried to understand what each song meant? The little activity got especially hard when it came to the line, "Are we human or are we dancer?"

At this point I want to thank you for being the most consistent friend as of late. You, my blog, don't act like a bitch when I don't talk to you (even though I talk to you more than I should) . I like how I can act all deep and shallow when I want to, shifting from one extreme mood to the other. And you won't judge me for it. You just listen, and I keep on talking. I should probably stop blogging and start living, because there's mutual exclusivity in the two, but where's the fun in that?