It seems like no matter how hard I try to live drama free, it always finds me. With a vengeance, too.
I flew down to LA this weekend to help move out and clean Prov 13 with the roommates. Jamie and Diana’s room is a lot nicer than ours. It’s upsetting and I’ll have to figure out a way to gently tell them that it’s not ok before I freak out in a few months and everyone hates me. Remember, I’m trying to live drama free.
Jessica got us tickets to see the Soundtrack of Your Summer Tour with the Maine, Metro Station, Good Charlotte, and Boys Like Girls. Since we both wanted to get drunk for it, we decided to take the Metro to the Wiltern and back. We should have known that night was going to get bad when we got on the wrong train right from the beginning. At least we met an interesting dude while we waited. He jokingly told us that we couldn’t pass and since we were buzzed, we stopped for lack of better knowledge. I ended up asking him questions about how to get to the Wiltern and he correctly guessed that we were on our way to see Good Charlotte. He did not look like the kind of person who would know anything about terrible pop punk bands, but then he started talking about how he used to be in a band that played with the Distillers. I think his name was Paulo…I should look that up to see how legit the conversation was.
The show was really fun. It was honestly the most fun I’ve had at a show in a long time. The Maine were adorable. Just adorable. I’m in love and I hate myself for being such a little fangirl. Metro Station was terrible, so I ran to the bar to get us Long Islands. Bad idea. Bad, bad, idea. Good Charlotte was so fun. It reminded me so much of what it was like to be at my first show. I’m glad that I went, despite the fact that it is kind of embarassing to admit that I spent Saturday night hanging out with 15 year old girls.
Jessica and I left after GC because Boys Like Girls have absolutely no talent. I called Jimena to tell her we were on our way home and put my phone back in my purse. As we walked out the venue, I reached back in my bag to grab my phone, but to my dismay, it wasn’t there. Jessica went back in to look for it, but both of us were pretty fucked up, so looking for it in the middle of a show wasn’t really going to do anything. At that point, I fell apart. I hardly remember the trip home because I was crying and really fucking drunk. It took us 2.5 hours to get home because we couldn’t figure out the Metro.
I woke up Sunday morning confused as to why I was still wearing my clothes, then reality hit me. I stumbled out to the living room, (I was still drunk…) and screamed at Jime, sleeping on the couch, ‘I lost my phoooooooooone!’
She already knew. Apparently a girl texted and called her that she found my phone. I was supposed to call in the morning to make arrangements to pick the phone up. I was so relieved.
But I called and she didn’t answer. Not once. I left a scathing message. I cried. I laughed. I tried to forget about it. I tried to think positively. I left LA without a phone. Again.
I spent most of my day worrying about my phone. Was she going to sell it? How stupid could she be? I had her number. I could call LAPD. Every bad sitauation that could happen ran through my head over and over and over. I couldn’t concentrate on anything. There were times I almost burst into tears at work.
But somehow everything seemed to work out. She called Eric today and I was finally able to speak with her. She’s not going to keep my phone; she’s going to mail it back to me. This Metro Station fan I vilified to everyone all day was really a hardworking, fun-loving girl who wanted to help me. She lost her phone and had it returned to her, so he wanted to return the favor. My faith in humanity is restored. Well, for the day at least.
Things are so much better right now. I still feel terribly depressed, but at least my phone will be back soon. How will the other unnecessary drama in my life be resolved?
