This weekend I did a lot of swooning. You know, the weak in the knees, flushed face, perma-smile swooning. I swooned over my favorite music and my favorite city, I swooned over the people and the smells and the views, the kind of swoon that comes from being back home, in a place you love, a place that's yours.
My friend Chrissy and I made the 13 hour trek to the Bay Area, where we met up with my little sister and rushed ourselves to the Shoreline Ampitheatre to see John Freaking Mayer. Say what you will about him, but I will defend his music to the grave. Every girl says she has a Taylor Swift song that she can relate to, but I have a story for every JM song. Slow dancing in a burning room? Check. Edge of desire? I've been on it. Gravity? Do I even need to comment? ANYway, I've wanted to see him in concert since I was 13 years old and bought "Room for Squares," but somehow it's never worked out. But this, this tour I would not miss. I almost did, but thanks to someone upstairs knowing that this has been on my bucket list for almost half my life, I was able to go.
And it was perfect. Everything I hoped it would be. Guys, his lyrics. His LYRICS. So swoon-worthy. "So good you didn't see the nervous wreck I used to be. You'd never know a man could feel so small. And you never look at me like I'm a liability, I bet you think I've never been at all." Right? RIGHT? Taking time off and moving to Montana just to write sure looks good on him.
Can you tell I have a little {massive} crush? Forget writing about it, time for pictures.
Go see him. Just do it.
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