the twelve dates of christmas: date ten

for the past couple years, AWD and i have gone to see "the nutcracker" around christmastime. it's one of my favorite traditions. but this year we were a little slow on the draw getting our tickets and there were only really expensive seats left and so we decided not to go.

and i was sad.

but then, i heard that they had released some seats for a sold-out killers concert, and it seemed like too good of a christmas miracle to pass up.

so, off we went for the tenth date of christmas to see the killers at the patriot center in fairfax.

you may recall that i am close, personal friends of the killers (they might not remember, but it's true), thanks to my catering work on the set of the music video for "human." and by catering, i mean that sallee and i made eggs over a camp stove, and banana boats in dutch ovens. but, a good time was had by all, and it was nice to see the band again after so much time apart.

they put on a pretty sweet show, complete with skinny jeans, fireworks, smoke and swoony dancing. i was a little worried about whether AWD was having a good time, as he is not a super fan of concerts, but as we were walking out he said, "well, that was definitely more fun that 'the nutcracker.'" so, i guess we found a winner.

never say never

something happened to me yesterday and there is no good (as in non-embarrassing) way to explain it so i am just going to come right out and tell you the truth.

i spent the whole day yesterday listening to justin bieber.

then smack and i watched this week's episode of "glee" with sam evans and his one-man band, the justin bieber experience.

then i made smack watch the music video for "baby" while i sang along and attempted the dance moves.

(sidenote: they are harder than they look.)

then i made AWD watch all the bieber music videos we could find on youtube while i sang along and attempted the dance moves.

(sidenote: they were still hard.)

(sidenote: AWD still likes me.)

i woke up this morning with that same pit of shame in my stomach similar to the kind i assume people feel after a one-night stand or a dog fight.

and yet, i still hear the siren call.

baby...

baby...

baby...

someone help me.

please.