Jordyn's life motto is "you only regret the concerts you didn't go to."
My motto about concerts is "why would I want to go stand for three and a half hours smashed up against a bunch of screaming people when I could just listen to my tunes in the car?"

But last night, that question was answered.

We waited in line for sooooo looooooonnnnng but were rather entertained by two boys standing in front of us. They were obnoxiously making a scene about how one's Panda Express looked like dog throw up, how one of them couldn't find an outlet along any of the outer walls, and who knows what else. "Hey! I know that girl! That's Cameron Jiles! Look, we know that girl!" was just a way to get people to turn their heads.

A security guard came down the line asking us if we were here for "Young and the Giant."
...Who?
Just kidding. We said yes and we were so ready to get inside.

The coolest thing, though, is when people start coming in behind you, and then more and more people, and you remember that everyone here loves the same band as you. You start to develop these weird, tender feelings toward everyone who enters the building. Even toward those two boys who keep saying that they're so excited to see The 1975 tonight.

The opening band was called Lewis Del Mar. They told us we were the biggest crowd they'd ever played for which was kinda cool. They sounded good. They also screamed and banged their heads around. The lead singer pulled out a jar of some brown liquid, drank it, then proceeded to probably give himself whiplash. It was lit.

When Young the Giant came onstage, the energy in the room set me on fire. I love watching music sizzle and zing through people's veins, then feeling it buzz in my chest and my throat until I'm jumping with the crowd and we, the sweat, the heat, and the lights, are in harmony. That's why I would go to a concert.
A group of vastly different humans stand together to sing
the same words to the same songs.

They played pretty much every song I hoped they'd play and more. And they play sooooooo freaky deaky well, people. I mean. It was something else. Jordyn and I made it to the train station exhausted, our ears ringing, our lips pulled up in smiles that wouldn't go away. Residual buzzing.

And I'm still smiling.