Shellehound (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} all_lov_is_real) wrote,@ 2008-04-20 00:19:00 |
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In which Shelley goes to her first concert.
"Real college week" = MADE OF WIN.
I've been so involved in the theater community here on campus that I feel as if I didn't get to enjoy the "college experience" that my parents demanded I live at school in order to get. (Neither of them lived at school, so they wanted to be sure I would.) Now that all my shows are over - Star Wars the Musical sucked the life out of me - I've been taking a nice time to walk around and smell the roses. Or stinky dogwood trees, as the TCNJ case may be.
But oh, what a wild, wild week. Gorgeously pristine weather, easy classes, finally got to a wild party on Friday night. Remember, I had three months' worth of no social life to make up for, and that's exactly what I did. Had to get up early Saturday to run security for my friends' anti-rape demonstration, then managed to crash for an hour or two before spending three hours editing film and then getting ready for the Concert.
I capitalize because it was epic. Let me explain:
I have never been to a concert before in the predominant meaning of the term. I've been to sit-downs, perfomance pieces and the like, but never an on-your-feet-for-three-hours, screaming, chanting event. I bought my Third Eye Blind ticket around a month ago, figuring it was a decent 90's band and would make for a good show even if I did have to sit and listen to them (Remember, I was under the delusion that this would be like the other mainstream concert TCNJ gave featuring Vanessa Carlton, which I did not attend.).
So I come back to my dorm and realize I've totally forgotten to secure any of my friends to go with. I'm texting people, calling people, and for some cosmic Murphy's Law payback for everything being awesome, not a one of my typical pals are attending. They all hate 3EB. Why do I talk to these people?
I'm mostly resolved to not go now. However, I hear from some guys that a group of my nerdfriends are going, so I give my friend Squishie a call and plan to meet up with her & co. there.
We get inside and wow, it's a stand-up mosh-pit event. To be honest, some other band opened for them and when it came clean that they were not in fact 3EB, most people (including yours truly) looked around in astonishment because in all honesty, not a one of us would have known a member of 3EB if they came up and bit us.
Once Third Eye got started, the proverbial excrement hit the ceiling fans. In the first hour, there were a couple of attempted crowd-surfings (none of these made it very far), some half-hearted moshings, etc. It was a slightly inebriated crowd. I spent most of this first hour terrified that one or more of these dropped surfers would land on their head, break their neck and die.
However, once they started finally playing Jumper, I look to Squishie (who's already surfed) and tell her "I wanna go up". Hell, it's my first concert, let's go for broke. We get these guys to lift me and Oh my god, I am riding a mass of humans who could drop me at any moment. I do the smart thing and assume the "Jesus position" (arms straight out and legs straight and together) because it's the most physically sound.
Somehow, all 5'11.5" of me travels over 2/3 of the crowd and I'm about to be thrown over the fence separating the crowd from the stage. The security guards are pulling people down and I'm terrified because I am going to be dropped on my spine. Suddenly a guard's arms appear out of nowhere and I cling to him for dear life as he brings me down.
The night was not without incident. Some idiot kid who was moshing got full-out socked in the face by this angry girl. This surfer got dropped on Squish and me - she took a kick to the mouth while I got on in the arm and eye. We recovered in time to enjoy the last high-energy number Semi-Charmed Life by jumping up and down like maniacs with our buddies.
All in all, I had a great night, all injuries included. I feel like I'm living all the great moments I was supposed to have all year by compacting them into one week's time, and I'm ok with that. Freshman year's almost over with anyway.
