washwords

“Bulldogs rule” already broke the news that I may have persuaded her to see a certain rock legend!!!!!

Yes, it’s true. Much to the “dismay” of my BF (who may happen to know “some guy called me“), my bff from junior high (yep, it’s bulldogs) and I are going to see George Michael, the man, the legend himself at the Verizon Center in July. The concert we were meant to go some 20 years ago! In jr. high, we LOVED him — and, blush, I believe I may have argued (passionately) that he was SO not gay. “Look at the ‘I want you sex video! He’s so clearrrrrrlllly into that androgynous asexual boy woman.” In 8th grade, she  taped the “Edge of Heaven” album for me, photocopying the cassette art and coloring it in with colored pencils! (see anti-music-piracy peeps, you can’t be mad at a little girl coloring in a cassette case for her friend, can you?)

We listened to every Wham! album backwards/forwards/inside out. We (eek) carried along that colored-in cassette to the limo that carried us to our senior prom.  We made each other mixes to take to college featuring a heavy dose of all GM’s best.

So when I first heard the rumors that he was touring (alas sans one Andrew Ridgely and, at that point, albeit in Europe) I KNEW we had to go.  And go we shall! See you there. We’ll be the ones fighting to be the “backstage girls!”

Oh, and lest you feel too bad for “that guy named me,” fear not: he gets to go Duran Duran in May and the summer concert series is young! If that doesn’t assuage your concern for his well-being, consider this: we also went to Asia  (all four members!) at the Birchmere a few weeks ago. I wasn’t the one who found that one.