Posts tagged ‘Celebrities that I don’t know’

October 29, 2010

An Apology

Woke up this morning to find this in my Twitter timeline:



Ah, hell.  And, ouch.

Yeah, I totally deserved that. 

Frustrated, disappointed, and heartbroken, I wrote a post about my dissatisfaction that something I’d been so excited for was now not going to happen and would not happen for the foreseeable future.  And I believed the fourteen people who read my silly little blog would politely tell me to shut up and get over it. 

Pissing off the band I adore above all others?

Definitely NOT my intent. 

Tomo, Shannon and Jared—I’m sorry.  Small words, but I mean them.  I adore you and the point I was trying to make yesterday was severely lost amidst the frustration and disappointment running rampant in that post.  Pissing you off was certainly not what I wanted to do and the rebuke was definitely merited.  My point was simply that I adore you and think you’re awesome, no matter what.  So my apologies, guys, for not making that  more evident. 


October 28, 2010

Dear Jared, Shannon, and Tomo, you kinda broke my heart…


I’m mad.  Which isn’t really an apt description, but it’s the best I’m coming up with right now. 

30STM postponed their November 5 Clifton Park show.  And now I’m mad.  Angry, disappointed, disheartened, saddened, frustrated, annoyed.  Take your pick, that’s what I’m feeling.

I’d like to take the high road and be the type of fan who’s mellow about it and says, it’s okay, they’ll make it up to me, I’m sure. 

I’m not that type of fan.

Instead I’m the lucky type of fan who’s a realist and recognizes that the MTV EMA’s are scheduled for November 7 in Madrid.  Coincidence?  Methinks not. 

And here’s my response:

Fella’s, I don’t care how many awards you win.  I don’t care how awesome your videos are.  I don’t care what Rolling Stone writes about you, or if VHI devotes the entire month of October to you.  I care about your music.  I didn’t develop a major music crush because you won Video of the Year at the VMA’s.  I won’t continue to listen to you because you may win an EMA, or a Grammy, or hell, the Noble Peace Prize.  I will continue to listen to you because of September 9 and September 9 only.  Because you came out and rocked the hell out of the Webster and that night?  That night I had the time of my life.  And I would have had the time of my life on November 5.  I would have cheered and shouted and danced and sang and jumped and gladly contracted the zombie plague again.  And I wouldn’t have stopped smiling for at least a week straight.  I would have told everyone and anyone how flipping AWESOME Thirty Seconds to Mars is.  Because of the music.  I would have done this whether I was in the front row or in the nosebleed section. 

November 5?  That night?  You would have lit up my world.  This one singular fan would have had the time of her life.  I don’t care if you win an EMA.  Seeing you in person, rocking together with you, that wins hands down, no contest, EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. 

Maybe other fans feel differently.  This fan, though?  She’d rather meet the band, rock out with them, tell them in person how truly AWESOME she thinks they are instead of clicking a friggin button on the computer so maybe someday that band gets an award.  Oh, hey, votes # 254, 857, 2548, and 6895, those votes are mine.  Or was it votes # 352, 526, 1245, and 12451?  No, definitely votes # 17, 652, 4127, and 7415. 

You’re right, electronic signals traveling through wires are EXACTLY the same as a real live and breathing fan telling you they adore you just because.  Yup, that’s definitely better than being told you’re awesome in person.  I can see why you’d want the award more…

September 22, 2010

Love letter to 30 Seconds to Mars, M5-style

Today, Internet, our story starts out with a boy and his guitar. 

Well, really, our story starts on the ninth of October, the year nineteen hundred eighty-one upon the birth of an unusually chubby and excessively happy future New York Giants fan but we have to fast-forward a decade or so because other than the birth of said chubby baby girl, nothing pertaining to the story actually happens.

And really, we can fast forward another decade and a half to the ninth of September, the year two thousand and ten because aside from a brief crush on one Mr. Jordan Catalano in the year nineteen hundred ninety-four, again, nothing much pertaining to the story actually occurs. 

So on this brisk early September eve, my sis’s M1 & M6 and I made our way into downtown Hartford to watch a band by the name of 30 Seconds to Mars.  Perhaps you’ve heard of them?  If not, go to iTunes now, download all three of their albums and hey, the AOL live sessions while you’re at it.  NOW.  Then come back and continue reading.

I don’t mind waiting. 

(Technically our story really goes back to a sunny day in August at the beach when M6 informed M1 and myself that she was going to said concert and M1 and I were all, OHMYGODUHAVE TOBUYTICKETSFORUSTOO!!!!!!)

I’ve loved 30STM for years.  Except I really never knew how much until I saw them live in concert.   Now?  Now I’m obsessed.  I can’t get enough.  This is War, 30 Seconds to Mars, and A Beautiful Lie play on repeat all day on my iPod.  And chances are if you walk into my office you will undoubtedly interrupt a rather embarrassing attempt on my part to mimic Jared Leto (The man is frighteningly good.  His vocals?  Just plain sick.   My vocals?  Worse than a screech owl.   His voice?   Awesome.  My voice?  Not  awesome.)

Soooooooo because of a mild case of OCD, I determined I HAD to find out every possible piece of information on 30STM that I could.  Rightnowrightnowrightnowish.  And, ok, I’ll admit it, Jared’s baby blues and former teen heartthrob status had a teensy bit to do with that (Total lie.  It had everything to do with it.).  And you know what I found out, Internet? 

30 Seconds to Mars?


It’s true I had an inkling of the awesomeness, but I truly had no idea how AWESOME.  Insane talent aside, these boys are well spoken, cultured, and super fan-oriented (See myself, M1 or M6 for info on joining the Leelan Echelon).  I admit it.  I’m in love.  I heart this band fiercely.  Did I mention they’re huge environmentalists?  That’s like deep fried cake right there.  (Cake’s pretty awesome on its own, but even more awesome when fried…as are most things.  Side note—they have deep fried butter at the Big E this year.  True story.)  

I guess what I’m saying, Internet, is be prepared for love fests on this blog involving 30STM (Not to mention the cyberwhoring/stalking M1, M6 and I engaged in about a week ago via twitter.  Sorry boys.  We just sincerely heart you.).  Probably on a pretty regular basis.  It’s just my small part for promoting a totally worthy, insanely awesome band. 

And oh!  OH!  I would be remiss not to mention the hidden message “Find the Argus Apocraphex.”  The band includes this on their album sleeves.  Tons of theories prevail on this but my personal fave is the one that suggests find your own personal happiness.  Don’t you just love it??!!  Seriously.   Mega love fest. 

(FYI, if they wanted to offer me a job in any capacity, I’d do it.  No lie.  If they wanted me to hold Jared’s water bottle while he’s onstage, I’d do it.  Happily.  My nametag would proudly read, Ali (M5), water-bottle-holder-girl.  I take no shame in this.  Read above regarding the AWESOME.)

Have you gone to iTunes yet???

Viva l’Echelon!

September 10, 2010

Jared Leto + Ali = BFF’s forever-ish.

I like doing things the hard way.  Not particularly sure why, because I’m pretty sure the easy way is much easier and probably more fun, but it’s how I’m hard-wired.  Because of this strange self-punishing desire to go about things in the most difficult manner imaginable, I spent a good majority of my early twenties miserable and living a life I hated.  Then I spent my mid-twenties correcting the error of my ways and working toward a future that I actually wanted (but still kinda hating a good portion of my life).  Now, in my late twenties, I’d like to think I’m halfway there….ish. 

Here’s my dilemma.  It took me about 28 years to figure out what I wanted from life.  And since I’m a planner by nature (no, seriously, zombies are no joke, planning is essential for an invasion) not knowing where I was headed really freaking bothered me.  I felt for a long while that I was working with no goal in sight and it all seemed really rather pointless, which essentially made me pretty damn miserable.  I’m super aware of the passage of time and how much time one tiny human actually exists in the whole scheme of things (the average human life span is soooooooo ridiculously short, it’s worse than pathetic) so I consistently felt restless and anxious and generally at odds with the world. 

And mostly, it’s because I couldn’t figure out what I wanted.  But now I know what I want.  Trouble is, I have no idea how to get there.  Sigh.  Well, now I’m a liar, Internet, because I have some idea how to get there.  But it’s more in a general sense than a well laid out plan. 

It turns out I love writing.  I mean really, really, hard core LOVE it.  Which surprised the heck out of me, I’ll tell you.  Growing up I thought I hated it.  It just so happens that I don’t hate writing.  I simply hate writing papers/essays/test answers about shit I don’t care about. 

Go figure.

So now I’ve got this major hard-on for the written word, which I’m sure surprises no one else, but was regardless, news to me.  But what to write?  How to get from point A to point B?

(Point A is the here-and-now.  Point B is where I’m rich and famous and friends with Jared Leto because I didn’t really know how much I love 30 Seconds to Mars until I saw them in concert last night.  Turns out?  I mega heart them.  And my sistah’s M1 & M6 mega heart him and when he and I are BFF’s I can MAKE. IT. HAPPEN.)

(Because who wouldn’t want to be BFF’s with this much AWESOME????.  Duh.)

Sooooooooooooo…..there you have it.  I love writing.  And it only took me 28 years to come to this realization (go me!).  And now I’m stopped dead in my tracks, because while I know what I want from writing, I’m really vague on the whole how-to-get-it aspect of it. 

I’ll figure it out, I’m sure (Probably in the hardest way imaginable, because really?  Why mess with a perfectly good M.O.?).  Comments are welcome

In the meantime, please enjoy my inane drivel and feel free to remind me that I am still young (though my body whole-heartedly disagrees) and to kindly, please, stop my petulant whining over the fact that I am not yet, at this moment, BFF’s with Jared Leto.