Current mood:	crappy
Current music:	not right now, no. not at all.

Why I am the Best Sister Ever (by Kelly Powers)
For anyone who still reads this, you may remember a brief update about the Weezer/Pixies show this month. I'm sure that it was short and excited, because I've never seen the Pixies before and still think Rivers is delicious. However, I can't report back that the evening was incredible because I FUCKING PASSED OUT.

After the opening band (who was horrible because the Pixies apparently decided not to tour with Weezer--a detail my sister "forgot" to tell me), the smelly teenagers around us who were all shamelessly hitting on each other and wearing track jackets, decided to scrunch towards the stage to get their $27's worth. About ten minutes later, I began to feel sick, so I left my sister and her friend Molly to fend for themselves while I got a bottle of water. Unfortunately I never made it to the bar because I collapsed on a staircase, had a "seizure" (the words of an inept security guard), and was revived by two attractive college boys. ( I was also applauded by a group of strangers..."She's up!! WHOOO!.") Shortly after, I was abruptly supported by two intimidating staff dudes who carried me to couple paramedics located whereverthehelltheytookme. The paramedics were two sweet ladies who gave me bottled water and showed me pictures of their kids. They also told me stories about the guys they work with, one being "Perverted Bob." (I'll leave it to you to imagine the issues they had with him.)
Anyway, after I sat in some random office for forty minutes holding ice on my face (I fell on the right side of my body so my hip, elbow, knee cap, and chin are all bruised), I headed to the bathroom to call my mom. After a brief conversation with her about it ("Kelly! I don't believe you did that!") I call Brandon to tell him because he's privy to everything, including minor medical emergencies.
So after I get off of the phone, I stay in the bathroom for another fifteen minutes, during which a drunk girl passes out by the sink. I help her up and take her to the paramedics (now that I conveniently know where they are), and make my way back to the ballroom. By now, Weezer's almost finished with their set and it's packed. I stood on the outskirts of the crowd and sang along to a couple songs in an attempt to salvage my night. I also stood next to this cute couple (the guy was wearing a Pixies shirt and the girl had cute hair) who I wanted to talk to because they looked my age, but I thought better of it. So I stuck around for the encore, all the while scouring the crowd for my sister and her friend. Because Meghan forgot her cell phone, I waited by the exit for twenty minutes before I found them. After complaining about the smell of smoke in their hair and "the sweaty guy," they followed me out and I drove them home. By the end of the evening, I had driven at least nine hours and I was exhausted, swollen, and starving.
I'm writing this all now because I can't go back to bed, even though I should because I have another seven hours of driving ahead of me today. I really don't feel like going back to Columbia, but I have an exam tomorrow at 10 and a paper to finish. My dad might drive me back because he was wanting to work at the lakehouse this week anyway, so let's hope that happens, ok?
Anyway, the moral of this story is to stay adequately hydrated, neglect to attend shows with a median age of fifteen, and try not to pass out in public.

You will only be embarrassed and injured.