“Oh God, I’m Gonna Die Alone”

I was going to make a post for my newest set of photos of Marina and the Diamonds but I figured I’d simultaneously take the time to reflect back on how this year saw my progression from casual fan to person with actual mental problems. Seal the door on my padded cell and tighten the buckles on my straight jacket. Let’s journey back…

July 30: Marina opened for Coldplay. I shot the show one night and “took my friend to see Coldplay” on the second night. Whoever thought I was there to be depressed to death by Coldplay was sadly (pun intended) mistaken. I’m sure at least the precious gay boy seated behind me (with his mom) sporting a Marina and the Diamonds t-shirt was on the same level as me.

July 31: That’s right. Back to back encounters. My former place of employment hosts Marina for a lovely in-studio performance. I, hearing of this, bless myself with the sign of the cross as I can’t believe it is anything short of a God-given miracle. This day would go on to include Ms. Diamandis breaking into an a cappella version of 2 Become 1 exclusively for me and “Queen Spice.” Sorry, inside joke with M. Note: I’m aware that this photo is disgusting and I realize now that the shirt I’m wearing in it also is and have not worn it since.

August 17: This is where things go real downhill for me, you know, sanity wise as I hopped in my brand new car and drove to effing Philly for the Lonely Hearts Club Tour. I won’t say much more because that should be proof enough that I have issues and to be quite honest, if you’re still reading this you obviously do too.

August 19: I’ll start by clarifying that VERY few things will bring me to an amusement park. Oh god, the sheer amount of filth. This trip to Six Flags was a compromise that just so happened to work out in my favor. My friends would wait in line for 100 hours sweating like slobs and I’d be backstage at some radio show that “just so happened” to be going on that day. “Weren’t you just in Philly?” Yes, can we not talk about it? God.

December 8: As you’re thinking “how long could this freak possibly go on for?!” – fear not, here’s where my journey on the crazy train comes to a screeching hault. Marina announces a Boston Lonely Hearts Club show (thanks, I didn’t just drive to Philly or anything). I gather up the friends I’ve managed to force my obsession (subtle TFJ reference) upon and head out for a night of binge drinking and fan-girling. Part 1 of that went so well that I don’t actually recall part 2. Had I known I was headed backstage post-show (humble brag) I probably would’ve stepped away from the vodka. JKLOLZ. Regarding this encounter with M, I will say the following: being on vocal rest makes people super funny and thus the people around them resort to whistling. Who let me take it there?! Shiniest pajamas ever, tho…

What else is there to say really besides to remind myself that I am no longer 16 years old and this sort of behavior is unacceptable in every single way. Let this blog post serve as a formal open apology to all of my friends for my digression into youth over the past few months.