Shockingly, I almost accidentally chucked my phone into a crowd of strangers by doing this

I had a pretty packed weekend. I accidentally touched Dan Smith (lead singer of the English band Bastille), I went on a road trip with my parents and grandparents, and I got photobombed by a college football coaching legend. Also someone accidentally hit me in the face.

BUT FIRST I think we should probably take a moment to appreciate that my concert video capturing technique has actually worsened with age and experience rather than improved. This was when I saw Bastille in January.

Look at that beauty! That precision! And barely any shaky hand movements! Now, this was this past weekend (brace your eyes, people).

I don’t know why I bothered recording this at all. You cannot see things in this video so much as you can feel them resonate somewhere deep inside of you. Actually, come to think of it, this really captures the essence of the whole experience—loud, sweaty, passionate, mystifying, and AMAZING. But more on that another time. I need to give your eyes and brains a chance to recalibrate after that overwhelming exposure to blurry lights and my inability to just stop freaking jumping, Jesus.

I went to a Bastille concert and it was perfect.

The end of winter is in sight. I can feel it. Now, odds are it’s going to snow again, and I’m going to feel very silly. I shouldn’t fall into this trap every year. But right now it’s a balmy 45 degrees, and as far as I’m concerned that means spring is coming, and the days of frostbite and windchill are behind us.

Did I ever tell you guys about the Bastille concert? Actually, let me pose a follow-up question: did you guys know that Detroit in winter is coldSee, I knew this. Or I thought I did. I thought I was prepared. I had my big winter coat, my boots, my winter hat, my mittens, even a sweatshirt underneath. And I felt slightly ridiculous getting in line for the concert behind people in cute skirts and flowy dresses. A few hours later, however, it would be I who was laughing. Well, not really. We waited in line for three and a half hours when it was -10 degrees out, plus windchill. Nobody was laughing. But I did feel vindicated. I had to give Tara my second pair of gloves because she was suffering, and I can’t even say for sure what the cute-skirts-and-dresses faction did. I spent the whole time facing the other direction so as to shield myself from the wind, so I literally just didn’t see them for a solid chunk of time. The concert venue was downtown, and nearby businesses actually came out with blankets and hand warmers for us because the situation was so dire.

I should also mention that I had the flu. Or, well, I was in denial of having the flu. (This would be confirmed later.) So there were a lot of factors going into this that could have rendered it an entirely unenjoyable experience. However, despite being so cold that I didn’t remove my bulky winter coat until halfway through the concert, and despite being so sick that I had to pull over on my way home, I can say with absolute certainty that that concert was one of the best nights of my life. It’s definitely in the top ten. Bastille was fantastic, and we did a lot of dancing, and at one point I almost got hit with the microphone cord when Dan Smith went into the crowd, so basically it was perfect.

I would do it again in a heartbeat. Maybe without the cold, if we could finagle that. I just put my winter coat away, and I’m hoping I don’t need it again for a while.

This is the rare post about sports

I have a lot of misdirected enthusiasm. I babbled incoherently to my mom for roughly twenty minutes because Bastille is going to be giving a concert near me. I freaked about the Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them movie to my friend who doesn’t care about Harry Potter because she just happened to be there when I found out about it. But it was last night that I realized I really need to start learning my audience.

Me: DUDE YOUR SCHOOL IS GOING TO THE FUCKING ROSE BOWL!
Tara: I would not have even known that was a game that was happening had it not been for the nonstop screaming that is going on outside my window right now.
Me: I’ll bet everyone is going apeshit.
Tara: It’s been ten minutes and it’s still going.
Tara: And like three sirens have gone past.
Me: You guys haven’t been to the Rose Bowl in like twenty-six years!
Tara: That’s exciting I guess.
Me: And you’ll probably be playing the Stanford Christmas trees or whatever the hell they are, so it’s going to be a GAME.
Tara: …Rose Bowl is football, right?
Me: Yes.

See? I can be a Michigan Wolverine and still bleed green. I grew up a State fan! I just happen to go to, you know, the other school. Besides, we have a common enemy. You should have seen this coming, though, Buckeyes. No team as awful as ours should have gotten that close to beating you. I mean, jeez.

I shouldn’t get a fall break. I can’t be trusted with it.

We just got back from fall break, which was basically just a really long weekend. My roommate is making me deluxe mac and cheese because I’m not high-class enough to have ever had such a thing, and also because I drove us four hours at night during torrential downpour to get us back to school. The things I do for education. My roommate doesn’t swear much, so I think she was, I guess you could say surprised, at some of the phrases I started using in high traffic.

I have a few weird obsessions going on right now, which is making schoolwork at best somewhat difficult, and at worst the lowest possible priority. They are a) the band Bastille, b) Ben Barnes, and c) Pottermore. Over break, I attempted to listen to every cover Bastille has ever done, while also watching Ben Barnes’ entire filmography, and catching up on Pottermore. I also re-read The Prisoner of Azkaban. I did not do my poetry essay.

All in all, everything went about as expected. I didn’t do my poetry essay, but I did bring all the necessary supplies with me to my house. So I essentially lugged all my notes and books and crap across the entire state for absolutely no reason.