wild pride

Actually who am I kidding. I've been the queen of ranting since 2002, why stop now.

Although I have little to say.

The problem with the internet is that it allows you all these innumerable platforms upon which to express yourself. People such as myself might want to write things, but people like me seldom have things of note to say.

I guess I could tell you people about how I met John Darnielle at a Final Fantasy concert. But I don't feel like it because I already feel bad enough about stealing the experience away from my friends in New Zealand who love him a lot more than I do. That bothers me, because I sort of felt like I was having a great moment in my life and now the retrospect is tainted by what one of them said regarding me getting quite fangirl about the whole incident.

On the inside, as I was talking to John, I was thinking about how much more my kiwi counterparts would be enjoying his conversation. I even mentioned them to John, comparing them to the enthusiastic fans at his concert on Wednesday: those who sang Wild Sage with him despite it being a high and quiet song. Basically, I am irritated by the comments that I heard and it has soured an event which should have been pretty special.

It actually was though. Mr Darnielle is a really sweet man. He commented on my Thailand tshirt and said that his wife was from there and we talked about Owen Pallett, and it was revealed that his favourite Final Fantasy song is "This is the dream of Win and Regine". Which is mine also. He said a few times that Owen's music touches him in *here* whilst gesturing and that they were friends. He recommended that I buy one of the albums. I was pretty irrational whilst talking, I'm sure. The same thing happened when I met Clare Bowditch. My heart starts beating in disproportionate amounts that seem to rattle my whole body, my legs turning to spaghetti. It was all I could do to remain standing. Which, thought my mind, is ridiculous because I am a fan, though I am not a super mega fan like others I know. There were these boys yelling themselves hoarse at the concert, looking like they were in pain as they closed their eyes and sang along with John. It clearly meant so so much to them. I said as much to John and remarked that I couldn't believe that of those people, I was meeting him.

So for someone to make a comment that I was, in some indirect way, cheapening their love for the Mountain Goats is fair enough. Because I did sort of approach him in a stalkery way, completely go off tap when I realised who I was looking at. I did shamelessly flaunt it all over myspace, facebook and twitter. I only own one album and a bunch of songs that people have given me on CDs. I love them all though. God. Some things I do on behalf of other people and I can't explain why. I went to their concert pretty much just because I wanted to share an experience with my friend in New Zealand. Then I happened to see this guy who she idolises at a concert and I leaped at the chance to have a talk with him.

I feel annoyed because this blog has begun on an angry note, but I need to get this out of my system because I am bothered by the fact that I can't let myself feel good about meeting someone so lovely.