Here I am. In the city that was the first trip of my past, my immediate present, and perhaps my future. You never know what that crazy thing we call the future holds. The other day I was sitting in a meeting when someone was speaking to an artist that I work with. They were talking to them about some big decisions coming up in their career and how to choose which publishing company/record label/everything else is just right for them. They were speaking of a certain publishing company and the history of the building that this business is housed in. You could tell that this person was very passionate about music, the city's history and what she had known to happen in that building's past that likely defined much of what that genre of music is today. She eluded to the fact that when entering that building you feel a "presence." You can feel the "magic exude from the walls." She didn't directly ask the artist if they had felt this special sensation when visiting the building but insinuated that if they hadn't, it may not be the place for them. I stood with my back against the wall listening to this speech thinking some people are half crazy while others are in tune with things I could never imagine. I've been to places before that made me feel this way, but the feeling faded quickly. It was more about excitement and building up to expecting something than and actual overwhelming sensation that came over me. I contemplated, then let it flee from my mind and went on with my day.

Today I am sitting in the city that nurtured some of the best music I've ever fallen in love with. I don't fall in love with things because I'm told to, or because I think I'm supposed to. It just happens. A few years ago, my heart was healed after you let me down. I've never been the same. It began a snowball effect and I'm in so deep that I've learned how to cry again. There are two cities that make me feel like this. There are two bands that emerged from those places. Two bands that changed my point of view and made me feel alive again. Two bands that allow me to drown in them, without any permission, without any reciprocation. One way is fine. If it's only one way, you can never get hurt.

Tonight, even though we were lost, even though we didn't know if it was safe, we were sitting at a red light, just under and overpass and a familar building, that I had never seen before, felt like it smiled back at me as I let my teeth show. The music drowed out the sound of my heart beat and I didn't care that we had no idea where we were or what was going on. I felt safe. I felt like I was a part of something bigger than me. I felt like, even though you may have never crossed paths with this building in youf life, that your spirit radiates in this city. I'm connected with it and I feel it. If an entire city can make me feel like a cool breeze just calmed my fears, let me advise you that if a tiny building doesn't knock you off of your feet, perhaps it's not the place for you.

I've yet to see more than a few venues and bars but damnit, I love this city. It was the first runway that I ever landed on while it was someone else's last. This may just be a silly lullaby, but it's easier to heal broken hearts with music and it's easier to sleep when the person sleeping beside you isn't begging you to come out of your blogging block.

See you at Warped Tour, Chicago. A&K tomorrow night. You game?

It hasn't even been an entire week and I've fallen in love. It's just the beginning of our yearly relationship, but summer already has my heart.

In just six short days I've found more ways to embrace the Tennessee summer than I have in the my first three attempts.

A holiday pool party turned into an afternoon under a picnic pavilion with my friends sipping on the collection of British beer and cider from my fridge while we watched crazy rednecks swim in a pool while lightning illuminated the skies around us.

The work week seemed to take forever while I peeked through my office blinds at the sunshine which was covered by clouds by the time the work day was over.

I was almost in the clear on Thursday night. Songwriter's nights at The French Quarter have made a dent in my Thursday nights lately, and you can't go wrong with last call Cosmos and midnight movie premieres.

Friday's road trip to Knoxville to see The Crash Moderns felt so much like a 2005 Click Five show that it almost made me cry. We ended up in a brigade of cars which included a tour bus, a mini-van with a tagged tralier, a few motorized wheel chairs that didn't keep up for long, and cars full of groupies who had no doubt been playing this game with Brett Michaels since his hey day.

After making sure the minivan was expertly stuffed behind a dumpster we piled as many people into a car as possible and after three restaurants ended up in an iHop. Late night waffles and egg beaters remind me of my favorite summer on record.

We drove until the sun came up with one passenger passed out in the back seat wrapped in my sweater while I explored the contents of someone else's ipod. We sang at the top of our lungs and had the air conditioning blasting in attempts to keep ourselves awake until the sun rose.

Waking up at 2:30pm, running to mail bridal shower invitations at the post office and a bit of Krogering before throwing on my swimsuit and heading to the pool sounds more and more like summer to me. I always love eating on patios when the weather is nice and an evening game of mini golf reminds me of childhood vacations. Sonic drive-ins and polaroid pictures make for a good end to the night.

I may not have a beach anymore, but I think I'm going to be okay.

Sometimes you look too far. Sometimes you'd just rather not know. One picture. One message. One tiny piece of the story can change everything. Sometimes what you think is one way, never really was, but you worry about the past anyway. I'm a little too curious sometime.

I wear my heart on my sleeve and I have a hard time sympathizing when everyone around me keeps it tucked tight.

Sometimes knowing someone on a very shallow level is all you really need. Reserve the deep relationships for the people who deserve them. Many times my deeply rooted relationships seem one-sided. I let people get away with a lot. I give the benefit of the doubt more than I think is healthy. I need to stop looking so far and wait for people to throw their secrets at me instead of stumbling upon them.

Sometimes I over-react.
Sometimes I get screwed over.

My favorite rockstar just became my new favorite blogger. I can never get enough and it's about time there was something to indulge in on these late nights when work is sparse and I've had enough live music and drinking in the past two weeks to do me good for awhile. I don't know how I got so lucky, but right when I began bitching that all the good blogs were gone, I found just what I was looking for.
A little over two years ago my friends and I began a tradition. We had a vibrant living area with one brightly painted red wall, a large red couch and red chair that always made me wish a tiny blue dog would jump on it. It all started when I made a lucky trip to the mall and found a rare treasure at a not so frequently visited record store. As much as I adore your voice with an acoustic guitar and treasure that small collection of heaven in my ears, it is indeed the bonus video footage that made me fall head over heels. Night after night when I was finished galavanting around town passing out free ink pens and sticky notes for a lite rock radio station, I'd come home and rest my feet and pop you in. All four of you. I'd skip straight to the live section. You probably expect this to be some large scale arena show taped to make a few bucks off of a DVD sale, but you'd be wrong. Instead I watched 4 songs over and over and over and over again. 4 kids, on the verge of being emo enough to start a trend revolution, playing in a living room with their friends within arms reach surrounding them on all sides singing every word and banging out every drum beat on their thighs. It was the epitome of the show that you all really want to attend. For all I know, they were paid to be there, but they surely knew every fucking word that was sung and as far as I could tell, these kids loved this band! Every night, for months, I escaped from my world and felt like I was there in this little Chicago apartment being a part of what I recognize as a moment in music history. In this town a band was born. Now, you all either love them or hate them. But, I could never turn my back for anything. I'm in too deep.

Every night when I watched it, I turned it up a little louder and my roommates hated me a little more. I only turned it up to drown out the sounds of my heart beat. I wanted to be there so bad. I wanted my favorite band to play in my living room. A few months later that red living room that I sat in every night was rearranged. We brought in a PA, some IKEA lighting, a few candles and a few six packs. We also brought in a man with a large beard to play guitar and sing into a mic that was on the wrong type of stand. On a breezy spring night in April 2006 Red Hot Room opened for business. We never made a penny, but surely paid ourselves in memories.

Looking back on it now, having that lucky find in a record store caused so much more than a few tears when I listened to those acoustic tracks or engulfed myself in that DVD. Finding that tiny gem was the catalyst for this entire project. Yes, The One Love. Both the friendships formed between the people living in that apartment and the amazing artists that took the "stage" in our dining room led to the bonds that formed The One Love. These people are a part of my every day life now, but I can guarantee you that when four of our very own bloggers plugged in, in my living quarters, I felt like I had the world at my fingertips.
Not to mention, it's not a secret to anyone that the business mind of one particular bassist and entrepreneur who played in that tiny hard wood room filmed for that DVD was exactly the inspiration I needed to take the passion and love of my friends and guide it into the form which is now this site. Yes, I copied you. I'm not saying I made it better, but I made it our own.

Thank you to a large cat in the urban jungle, an italian ice cream parlor and the man who makes my heart beat to his beats like no other. I think I'll take a visit to your landmark. It's my Abbey Road.

I'm so (not) over you. (But, And), I am (not) over waiting for you.
I 'carpe diem' the hell out of every day.
Just when I grab the bull by the horns, it manages to wiggle it's way out.
My (insecurities, fate) loosen(s) my fingers just enough so it all starts to slip away.

It's so much (more, less) about hating the circumstance than hating any of you.
I wish (everyone, nobody) would/could hurry and catch up to my flighting hope.

Every day begins with the right foot, and usually ends with a weak knee.
I rebound like it's my job.
My job is to live my life. I do that "to the fullest" thing 85% of the time. I'm just getting (tired, started).

I'm tired of putting on the smile.
The forced smile used to permeate through my body, effecting my entire state of being.
It's so routine now and has lost its touch.

I'm looking (for, past) the next step.

85% never amounts to much. It's < perfect.

I worry as much as I breathe. You changed me. (...better, ...worse)
Escaping sorrows and looking toward the sun used to be my favorite pastimes.
I want to pull an "about me" section out of the non-existant archives and post it again.

Tell me you have the time. Now.
...either of you.

Here is another one of my late night rants before going out of town far earlier in the day than I ever like to be awake. I'm not in a creative mood. I'm not even that "awake." I'm bored and frustrated, not being able to sleep and thought I'd send a little hello out to The One Lovers! You all will be in NYC next week for The One Love Crashes New York, right!? I better see everyone there! The show is going to be fantastic! Beginning this weekend, you will be able to bid on songs for Ben and Nate to play during the show. If you win the auction, they have to play the song, no matter what it is! All money raised from these auctions will go to The American Cancer Society! Also, of course, all ticket proceeds will go there as well.

We are so pumped to have our good friends and bloggers Olivia and Chris Stahl (you just have to say both names) playing the show! Also, special guest Matt Bair!

The past few weeks have been absolutley wonderful. I've seen so many great shows, met some amazing people and had twist of fate after another put a little dent in my rare bout of emoness. I subscribe to the teachings of "The Secret," as do a handful of my close friends and we are on fire right now! The Secret is all about positive thinking and putting out positive energy while attracting it right back to you. If you have no idea what I am talking about, it's totally worth the read, or a night with your DVD player. I recommend the book though, since it's easier to reference. I don't discount my belief that prayer helps me through my day and is the ultimate deciding factor in my fate, but positive thinking never hurt anyone.

Tonight my friends and I threw a going away party for our dear friend Cassie. Don't worry, she's not leaving The One Love, just Nashville, to open up a new office for the company that her and I own, in New York! I'm very excited for her and for the future of our company! So, all of you heading out to the show this week, make a new local friend!

Ok, I think the sleepiness may be kicking in...at least I'm going to give it another try. I'll be out at the crack of dawn and hitting a Hanson show someplace in PA by nightfall, only to see one of my fave bloggers Mr. Steve Duchardt!! Then, trekking to New Jersey for the night before heading off to Bamboozle for 2 days of some of the best music out there!! I am particularly looking forward to seeing All Time Low, booking it across the venue to see Cobra Starship, then booking it back to see The Academy Is... Now, that's a workout I can live with! It will be sooooooooo much better than the elliptical and my ipod!

Sweet dreams kids!
xo, Jade

I think we all want to hear how your impromptu performance went the other evening...

This is all. :o)

For some reason, I think that if I write this, it will help it last longer. It will help the hope last long enough to become the beginning of what is supposed to be. It will help me stop wondering and start knowing. It will help me pass the time while I get to the good part. It will take away the fear that the past is just a precursor to the future. It will give me something to come back and show you if this should ever work out. It will make me realize that all of the signs I beg for are sitting right in front of me. It will put it out there and make me stop hiding it.

I have felt very strongly about a lot of things that have never done anything but disappoint me, but who says giving up on hope is going to move anything forward. I'm not going to let it be. I'm going to let it become...

There's that song on every CD that you play more than others. It's this intangible object that you just can't get enough of. You sing it so loud and so strong that you can hardly catch your breath and you beat out the rhythm on your knee so hard that it turns them red. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. It comes in different sizes, shapes, colors and flavors; but it's got that "thing." In people, I call it charisma. In music, I don't know what to call it, but it's there. Sometimes the words speak to you like no other. A song comes along and it's just right for you for just that moment in time and if you would have heard it a day earlier, or later, you would have passed it by. Sometimes the drums just seem to beat with the exact rhythm of your heart. Once you fall in love, there are days that it makes you cry.

I never understood people who cried at weddings. Crying when you're happy? It just didn't seem natural. I've questioned this spectacle that happens in every movie that features a wedding since a young age. Perhaps it's because I've never been in love. It took me awhile to realize this. You see, sometimes I take silly quizzes on Facebook that my friends send me. They don't mean anything, they just pass the time. Often they ask questions like, "Have you ever been in love?" Well, I dunno. A few years ago i wouldn't have hesitated when replying "Yes, of course!" Now, I stop and question my answer. The fact that I have to question it at all says a lot. I'm confident at this point saying, "No, I haven't." Whatever I thought "love" was between me and any person, in the sense of some sort of romantic relationship was never really that...well...real. I remember the first time I cried out of joy. July 15, 1998. Nissan Pavilion. Bristow, VA. BSB. I didn't understand what was happening. It just did. It didn't happen often after that, but as I've gotten older and learned to appreciate my surroundings and my life I tend to cry constantly. Mind you, this isn't out of fear, loss or dissappointment. No, only out of happiness. If I cry related to any negative emotion, other than physical pain, somebody has really hurt me. It's so rare. These days, the thing that most commonly makes me cry is music. Obviously it's a good thing. The moment most any band that I'd pay to see goes on stage I instantly cry. It doesn't last long. It's just a few tears accompanied with laughter. It's instant and quick, and the best thing I can call it is love. Love. The One Love.

My favorite cries? The first moment I saw McFly take the stage in Glasgow. Please, Please. Acoustic FOB set in a small hallway for 30 unamused students and my heart. Patrick Stump accompanying Gym Class for Clothes Off somewhere in CT. Millennium. FF5 on the 5 covers of CCM. FOB - Hey Chris in Bournemouth and the moment I got that ticket! " _ _ _ _ _   _ _ _ _ hold my hand!" McFly - Friday Night - Blackpool. The moment I got my Wonderland CD the first time, after months of getting it back after going lost and getting a new unscratched copy just this week and getting to drown in "Don't Know Why." Seeing The Click Five on TRL...or maybe just riding up the escalator to get to the studio. Don't even ask me the first song, but Son of Dork in London. Sneaking into that Hawk Nelson show during GMA week. No Doubt - pit - DC. Being forced to see The Click Five in Cincinatti and all the sparkles that caught my eye. All Time Low "Vegas." The Wonderland DVD. BSB/Click Radio City. BSB at the NorVA. Driving 12 hours to see Mr. Hilton play in a sportsbar. McFly - "I Wanna Hold You" in Sheffield...or in any place for that matter! ;o) Buying Infinity on High. Anytime I get Royal Mail. I digress.

I realized recently that the reason I don't know how to answer those "love" questions is because I never was in love. Never have a had an experience with some boy that has touched me as much as a song. Never have I been reuinted with some guy after a long wait and instantly had tears well up in my eyes. I've cried, yes, but always because I've been hurt. So, here's my answer, Facebook quiz. No. I have never been "in love." The Princess of Genovia waited for her toe to pop. I'm waiting to cry and smile at the same time. I know what makes me cry and smile at the same time, and for now they have my heart. My family, my God and my MUSIC!!

What spawned this realization? Royal mail, knocking on my door. I know that knock. Any packages smaller than a cd are put into my box. Any packages larger than a cd are dropped off at the apt office. CDs are rubber banned to my door knob. Maintenance yells "maintenance" when knocking and my friends knock much weaker than the mail man. I buy any American music from the store, mainly Target or a handful of indie record stores in several states. I'm not an iTunes shopper. I can't give up one of most intimiate experiences I have in my life on a constant basis. Buying a CD. It's 11:30 am. There's a knock. It must be Royal Mail.

We are the lovers.
If you don't believe me,
just look into my eyes...
because the heart never lies.

I've been crying all day.

The only bad thing about Flake bars is that tiny pieces fall onto your clothes, melting and leaving tiny little stains. This happens often on British trains, or when you're lucky enough to get a few International treats in your Easter basket, and you're lying in your childhood bed while pretending to be in the office.

I woke up yesterday to the sounds of an owl. A high "hoo" followed by three lower pitched "hoos". I kept listening to it. There was no rhyme or reason, as far as I could tell, to the times at which the bird would decide to "hoo," but when it did decide to, the four calls were eerily perfect time and time again.

I was walking around olde towne Franklin last week, while my mother was in town visiting, and thought that I saw an owl on a roof. It seemed to be glaring at me. I began to feel nervous when I realized it was just a weathervane.

After hearing the calls of the owl yesterday morning, I finally got out of bed and headed downstairs to tell my father how eerie it was to be woken by an owl as I had not heard that noise for as long as I can remember. Not to mention, thinking I had seen one just days before.

Perhaps they don't actually inhabit Tennessee. I grew out of knowing interesting animal facts when I was in grade school, so I really have no idea. I am pretty sure, however, that they do live around Richmond. There was this kid that lived down the road from me when I was in elementary school, and probably through high school. He was one of those kids that was the butt of everyone's jokes and at some point just seemed to dissappear, even though he hadn't gone anywhere at all. Maybe it was the fact that at some point, middle school happened. I wasn't in charge anymore and instead of being the right-hand man to the kids who made fun of the other kids, they all turned on me and made my life hell. At this point I felt for the kid, and once I gained my dignity back in high school, I felt bad for the kid and probably just ignored that he existed as to not feel bad for badgering him as a child. Anyway, this kid's mother was a local park ranger, or something of the sort, and to add to his list of things to tease him about, his mother would often visit our classrooms bringing in stuffed owls. I'm not talking toy store stuffed, I'm talking dead and mounted. She'd also bring along samples of their droppings. At the time, it was kind of fascinating, but at this point in my life, when I should have grown to have more respect for science and our environment, I know there's no way in hell that you'd get me to touch, or dissect, owl shit!

My father laughed at my assumption and informed me that it was no owl that I was hearing, but a dove. Apparantly doves frenquently sit on the roof above my old room, and only on that side of the house. As far as I could remember I had never seen a dove in my life, or a live owl for that matter. For a moment, I felt blessed.

I began to research the calls of a dove to find out if this one was trying to tell me, or another dove, something important. I soon found out that doves are a hunted animal. I dunno, I mean, I know wild birds are often hunted, but hunting a dove to me is like hunting a butterfly. Not that I particularly support or protest hunting of any sort, really. 
Deer scare the hell out of me. They are probably one of my most feared animals. This fear dates back to a childhood story about a deer ramming some man's small Gremlin and kicking him to death. Living on a road with many deer sightings, I've always been unusually afraid of the animal. Deer heads make good props for FOB videos. That's my extent of appreciating the deer. Hunt them. But, a dove? Isn't there at least some Holy law that forbids this kind of sport? Do people eat them?

I came upon a restaurant last month, during an evening when I was determined to eat someplace that I had never eaten before, since we tend to stick to the same locations. We came across the Sportsman's Lodge. Now, the name and the fact that i was entering a giant log cabin should have tipped me off, but for some reason I was okay with the choice when entering. Smokey Bones looks like a log cabin, the Arby's, which also houses a delicious Mexican restaurant, near my house, looks like a ski lodge, hell, it even reminded me of Disney World, but the more I sat in this restaurant, the more disgusted I became. As I slowly ate my French Dip, I couldn't help but notice the abundance of wildlife staring at me from the walls. I felt as if that elk was saying, "Hey, you think that's cow you're eating, but it's really my rear end." Half way through the meal, I stopped eating and eagerly awaited the check. My friends began to stare at one another with a look of fear in their eyes, accentuated with a slight grin, and I knew they were feeling the same way. Once we paid, we booked it out of there.

A few weeks later, as I was driving home from work, I was passing the restaurant. It's in a high-traffic mall area, and sits very close to the interstate. There is a thin wire fence and a few sparse twig-like trees that separate those businesses from the interstate. More into my music than the road, something suddenly caught my eye. Standing there, between 8 lanes of rush hour traffic and the tiny metal fence that separates the road from the wilderness lodge, stood no less than 5 deer. For a moment, of course, I feared them darting toward my Jeep. For the other half of that second, I felt safe, as if that restaurant would have their heads mounted on the wall before they'd have a chance to ruin my paint job.

I didn't hear the dove when I woke up this moring, just my phone vibrating to let me know the work day had begun and I slept through my getting ready time. I'll let you know when I come across an olive branch.

if you swear to listen.

also, i really enjoyed picking this up today.

I would really like to see FOB play in Antarctica and clench a Guiness title. I'd like to dance, dance with the penguins. Can somebody priceline a flight to the most southern tip of S. America for me? At that point, I will inflate this and paddle over.

MONSTER TUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUBEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!! is. back.

i feel like i'm not allowed to love you the way that i used to, but i love you still.

i don't mind being seen as cliche. i remember the last time i remembered how spring is supposed to feel. that cd became my newfound friend. i saw it as different. i may live for music, but it doesn't mean i've heard it all. nothing is original in the scheme of things, but any one thing can be original to any one person. why else would anyone bother creating anything. i guess you could play on reminiscent, which is what this is doing for me at this moment. the timing is perfect. i can't wait to prop my toes up on my dash, put down the windows, and remember that day.

i want to stand up and say "nothing you say can take that away from me"... but unfortunately something you said already has. but, in ten days, when i walk down the aisle, fast enough that you can't exactly classify it as a run, and get my hands on it, you can NEVER take that feeling away from me! for that one second, if only one second, i will be focused on nothing more than what i want. call it selfish, but i've got to look out for myself. you've only ruined it for yourself. don't forget why you came here. don't forget what made you have that feeling. i don't know how it feels in you, but i'm pretty sure it's close to the way it feels in me. don't let them taint your dreams and don't take out your frustrations on me because i play two roles.

[you] try so hard to be in the spotlight but the ones i admire took my attention and i never even recognized you. stop giving it up because now i loathe even your credible efforts.
jealousy will never replace hard work. shrug it off. the heart never lies.

:30
a new day is here. chocolate's endorphins really do change your mood. maybe it was just new music. i can vouch for the power of a good tune.
music is my anti-drug. jack is my anit-beer.
i'm over whatever i was under. i spilled it on the screen and hid it. let's just look at this as an opportunity. the hormones were distracting my focus.

pretty. excited.

Last February was pretty much one of the worst memories of the recent past. According to the secret, which I am currently obsessed with, I shouldn’t even be talking about this or it will happen again. This February, all who believed in “The February Theory,” changed the way we thought, and you know what…we survived! Not only did we survive, but we kind of had a good month. I refer to the term “we” as my friends and I. In February I (we)...

+ saw an AMAZING show at The Bluebird starring Sean McConnell, Tyler Hilton and Lori McKenna while sharing burnt sweet potato fries with good friends
+ finally got to watch “Across the Universe” again, but this time while eating sushi and hummus
+ hopped in the car wearing a t-shirt I thought I’d never sport and ended up in Clarksville where they have penny beers! The Crash Moderns rocked my world and then taught me how to play beer pong. (How did I get through a state-supported university and frequent frat parties and never play this!?) I didn’t quite understand the concept at this point in the night and ended up cheating while partnering with some redneck chick who caght the ball in her cleve. Of course we ended up at a diner that had amazingly bad for you food and returned to Nashville at 5ish am. This was far earlier than I had expected actually.
+ finally got to tour the mysterious giant BMI building
+ FF5 in Chatty. This was the day I most efficiently utilized the electric outlet in my jeep by curling my hair on the way to eastern TN.
+ watched Josiah play an amazing show at the Rutledge
+ sat by one of my friends, as she sang to one of my other friends by association, his songs to him while dining at a sushi joint that wasn’t serving sushi at this hour
+ met a girl who Wentz has thrown up on
+ holiday gift shopping is one of my favorite pastimes!
+ received my annual batch of scandalous celebrity valentines and giant bag of candy
+ received a large chocolate man which I have vowed to melt in my fondue pot
+ got a new TV!!
+ ended up at Krispy Kreme right when the hot doughnuts were rolling out of the oven. Not something I indulge in often, but it’s totally worth it!
+ FF5 in Owensboro, KY – home of the best Mexican food I have ever had! New FF5 music!!
+ Threw Lila an amazing birthday party and was very proud of my cupcake masterpiece
+ One of those classic cab rides you tell stories about for years
+ Birthday dinner with friends I don’t get to see often enough
+ Ice Cream Cake in a swanky hotel room
+ Planned and executed Stellar Kart’s “Secret” CD Release Party and it went so much better than I could have imagined! Cake, glowsticks, dinosaurs, balloons and hot t-shirts make any party a hit!
+ Fell in love with Metro Station!

Marching to the sound of love…

The first day of March was fabulously productive. Went to see Charlie Bartlett tonight after high recommendation from one of the stars of the movie, and subsequently one of our own bloggers, Mr. Tyler Hilton. Please take the time to see this movie to 1. Support Tyler and 2. See a wonderful movie that you’ll want to see again. So many witty jokes.

Oh, and did I mention that I am ending my anti-blogging streak because I fainlly have a beautiful, handsom new laptop who I’ve decided to name Evan after faux boy band member turned TLC host Mr. Evan Farmer, whose half-naked bear skin rug photoshoot will surely lead to my embarassment soon. So, I might as well call myself out on it now and do something drastic like name my newest prized posession after the incident.

This blog’s getting too long and is full of typos since I’m watching tv trash while typing. So, here’s my apology. Let’s end it here.

Blogging used to be my outlet for emotional distress. That was when the only person who read what I had to say was me when I stumbled back over it time and time again. Now that everyone’s looking, I have to be more careful. I’m not good at blogging about happy things, because happy things don’t need to be sorted out, just celebrated. I verbalize happy things. I write to sort out my problems. It’s kind of weird. I have so many close friends that either read this site or are involved in it and sorting my problems out has gone from private to public. I have written about 20 blogs in the past month sorting out my daily dilemmas, yet none of them ever get posted. It's hard having to edit myself. I feel like I edit myself on a daily basis. With blogging. With phone convos in an office. With mixing business and pleasure. This job is a lifestyle and I think I’m starting to understand what being famous is like more and more. Please note, I said "understanding what it's like" NOT "on the verge of becoming" - please, give it to anyone else! This stresses me out enough. I’m beginning to sympathize with ol Brit Brit rather than just watching her like a spectacle. I’m nobody and she’s everyone’s somebody. Shouldn’t we have seen it coming with “Lucky?”

On a happier note, I stumbled across a post it note that was hiding under my paper weight. Yes, I have a paper weight on my desk. It is personal and was given to me as a gift from a very close friend. It’s probably one of the best gifts I’ve ever been given. Other than that whole gift of life thing. Back to the post it. It lists, other than a reminder to pay my electric and insurance bills, a number of albums that are on their way this year that I am thoroughly looking forward to.

These include:

Family Force 5

Hawk Nelson

Simple Plan

Panic! at the Disco (the ! lives on in my heart)

Tyler Hilton

McFly

The Crash Moderns

...and though I have no indications other than an optimistic outlook, I really, really hope I get to add Fall Out Boy to the list!!

This should make a very emotional year. I’ll get at least 7 happy blogs out of the next 11 months, right?

Off to work on resolutions that begin in February…

What follows is the result of three tries and a whole lot of compromise between what I want to say and what I don't want you to know. 

--- 

It takes a lot to make me cry. It only comes when something is missing. Whether it’s love, respect, inclusiveness…tonight it was appreciation. I do a lot for people. I’m not one to expect something in return. I do for others because it makes me happy. Generally I don’t really like receiving gifts. Weird, I know. I take gift buying as a serious affair. I put more thought into buying a small gift for a loved one, than the decisions I make about my own purchases. I want to make sure the gift that I present shows that I care, I listen and I appreciate someone for whom they are. When I receive a gift, many times it’s impersonal. I know it’s the thought that counts, but sometimes a bad gift is just a sign of doing something because, well, that’s what you are supposed to do and a lot less about doing something because you want to do it. I love Christmas gatherings and birthday parties because I love seeing someone being truly surprised at a well thought out gift. I like to surprise people. If I want something, I usually go out and get it, so surprising me is pretty difficult. I’ve been surprised a handful of times in my life and those memories are priceless. I’ve also been given a small number of gifts that were obviously well thought out and meaningful and they are displayed proudly throughout my abode. When a gift is to be presented because of a special occasion, or out of appreciation I don’t usually expect much. I take the time to apologize when I’m wrong, though it sometimes takes awhile, and give thanks when I’m grateful. I expect the same in return. Words cost nothing and could be one of the best gifts one can give. When you can expand your gratitude for others to see, it becomes even more special. When you are given this opportunity, taking it could be the difference between tears of joy and tears of disappointment. Take the time to shout out loud when you love, appreciate or care for someone. It can’t hurt anything.

This is when I start to back away. I know how to run. I’m even better at hiding. Excuse my while I lie down and second guess my profession.

I am at home for Christmas. I always stretch myself beyond my limits trying to make time to visit with everyone in Richmond before I leave. This time my family and friends have made scheduling easy on me and I've gotten to do more than I usually do. Tonight I went with two good friends of mine, Michelle and Jason, to the botanical gardens to see millions of holiday lights. On the last stop at the gardens we entered the library to be greeted with what you will see below. These holiday wishes were written by hundreds, maybe thousands, of people young and old. At first, while reading them, I thought to myself, wow, some people can be really shallow. I then had to stop and think that I could not judge a person on a mere few words written on a post it note. These people could be any age, at any point in their life, they could be having a bad day, the best day of their year, they could be rich, poor, optimistic, depressed etc. etc. etc. Still, I stood there looking at this wall and reading these wishes for what I'm sure was a period of time longer than anyone really wanted to wait for me. See below to experience a little of what I experienced. I could have stayed all night!

The day that I start researching a band’s early music and figuring out how to purchase it is the day that I realize I just made a much, much larger purchase than a few songs to add to my collection. It’s the day that I add them on Myspace. The day I begin to announce to my traveling compadres that road trips will ensue. It’s the day that I reevaluate my current list and decide at what level I shall place this band in my ever growing list of priorities. I often state my decision on hypothetical situations to help myself wrap my mind around how much I love something. It changes often within the core group but it takes something grand to break into the scheme.

I don’t know if I’m on that path right now, but I fear its coming. None of the others seem to be biting so that might nip it before I even let it begin. I’m wrapped around four at the present time and stretching my clock and wallet to the extreme.

For the record, this is how I fell in love with you…
1. The Christmas cover of AP. A mall gift card as a gift from the station manager. A 10 hour ride home for Christmas. The first show cost a few hundred bucks via eBay and a six hour road trip. I saw ‘Grenade Jumper’ in Bournemouth, circa 2007. I went to that Chicago secret show. Kelli surprised me with tix and a train ride and CT kept me going.

2. One bad poetry reading in a car. One Myspace visit. 24 bars of “I Wanna Hold You” before I made a call “We’re going to England!” We’ve been three times now.

3. Five cute boys and a couch plastered on a dorm room computer screen. One convincing phone call. “Pop Princess” in the bathroom. Glittery guitar straps. 50 some shows and then there was England. Now there’s this site. It’s changed, but it’s still special to me.

4. Her radical shirt intrigued me and kind of made me jealous. I wanted to see Hawk Nelson. She wanted to see them. I made a deal. A 10 hour car ride home for a funeral. A late entrance after getting my nose pierced. It must be the glitter on the stage. TV taping and I’m in love again. 

Who will be next?

Thank you for giving me something to love. Thank you for letting me do something that I love for a living. Thank you for loving me back. All you need is love.

Without a doubt. It never fails. Tears are in the forecast. It never rains when I’m in my new world. The clouds may hang, but they quickly move off before anything begins to fall.

Talking behind my back never hurts me because I never have to hear it. You can’t please everybody all of the time and you have to look out for yourself so a small dose of shit talking is inevitable amongst friends. I find it healthy. I find that it’s more about talking your way through something that is bothering you about another, and working it out on your own, rather than making a problem for someone else who never even realized there was a problem at all.

Then there are people who want to nip a problem at the moment they realize it is bothering them. They make a suggestion though you think everything’s fine. You consider it and move on. You continue to do things the way you always do, being the careful, thoughtful and motivated person that you are and they just can’t take it. It blows up. You are labeled with words you loathe. Words you feel are the opposite of everything you exemplify. As a child you take the title that the authority gives you and let it eat away at your confidence. You are what they say you are. As an adult it hurts just as bad but you realize you are only what you make of yourself and don’t let the labels inhibit your ability to continue to search for happiness or live in the world you have created. You still let it all out. It hurts now that someone you think is supposed to adore you only sees you for your small negativities which everybody has. Everyone says “nobody’s perfect,” but only usually refers to themselves and never applies it to those around them. I know nobody’s perfect. I have taken the time during the past year, even more time since October, to find the good in my friends and remember why they are in my life. I find myself having to “talk out” these so-called problems less and less and wanting to spend more and more time with people who I at one point brushed off.

I don’t know if people in my life do this because they are not happy with themselves. Perhaps they do it because they are not happy with what I have become, even though it is the life that I have built for myself that makes me happy. It seems that when they see that other people appreciate me, that they find more appreciation for me themselves. It’s about loving what’s acceptable I suppose. I don’t have the ultimate admirer. I’m not completely worried about it. Other people make me more worried than any amount of worry that I could pull from myself. I know that social standards are based on some facts. I know that the clock’s ticking. I also know that I am happy. Most of the time. At least in my world. I do know that I try. I do know that I am successful. I don’t know if there’s any hope for my socially acceptable future. I do know that I find it more than appealing. I don’t know if I should make changes to what’s presented or look for someone who accepts what I have been presenting all along. It’s rare that I get upset. As of late any form of sadness has been triggered by new experiences, which only makes them better for learning. I feel like I just traveled back in time. Not like the moment I felt in Sheffield. More like the times that I wanted it all to end, but not nearly as awful. Sitting in the same chair, in the same position that I used to sit during one of the roughest times in my life that accompanied my deepest secret isn’t really making me feel any better. Sometimes reminiscing is good, especially if you can learn from it. Sometimes you are worn out and weak from all that you do that you don’t have the strength to fight your past and recognize your present, especially in these surroundings. I wish the break was over. I live for the future. It’s not always a bad thing.

I can't sleep. I can never sleep before getting on planes. I also cannot sleep unless there is a certain level of darkness in my room. Though I raved earlier about the new bright lights outside of my apt and how safe they made me feel, I have now realized that one is mounted directly outside of my bedroom window and I would go buy curtains if I weren't flying to London tomorrow afternoon and needed both the sleep time and the cash for other reasons.
I just got one of the best haircuts that I've ever had. I ate my detox meal before leaving the country this time. My apt is fully decorated for Christmas, minus the tinsel on the tree which I am saving for a welcome home activity. My bags are nearly packed and I'm actually going to sleep at a decent hour. The morning will bring much stress. We're catching a flight from the ATL and everytime I type those letters I get a certain song stuck in my head. That should help the sleep cycle move along nicely.

Anyway, this blog is more about the following than the aforementioned:

 
Cassie and I will be flying to London tomorrow, arriving Friday morning, taking a train directly to Birmingham and enjoying an evening filled with good music. I am in the mood for cheap Euro chocolate and a good teeny bopper magazine. I am so pumped because I just found out that the flat we will be staying in for the last week of the trip has a WASHING MACHINE!! This means smelling fresh and bringing less clothes to lug up and down train station stairs. I think I'm far more prepared for this European adventure than those past. I'm really looking fwd to Bournemouth. I'm also looking forward to going to a British mall and meeting a British Santa Clause. I'm not sure how different it will be, but I'm hoping it could be interesting enough to spark an entire blog. 

Ben flies in early next week. We will be meeting with a few charitable organizations while in town and are looking to do some volunteer work as well. Once we have these plans set, we will let you guys know so you can join us. If you are in London, COME OUT TO THE SHOW ON TUES!! I wanted to mention that the "and friends" section of this flyer may be shaping up to make this one of the best shows ever. Who knew things like this could happen in this lifetime? When confirmed, I will spill. Until then, stay tuned for lots of blogging while we are across the pond...and if you see us at a McFly show, come up and say hello!

Is it too early...or too cliche to say "Cheers!"?
-Jade

 
Just thought I’d throw this out there. There is one physical object that I’d like to be the owner of and I have had no luck in the past few years finding it. I’ve began looking again recently and still…nothing. This object is “Take this to your Grave” on vinyl. If anyone has any leads, send me a msg on Facebook or something. Sigh. Still happy. Still similing!!

Caroline Bocko
New Media Guru
Message Board Mod Extroidinaire

 ...besides the fact that ticket sales were only for people within like 100 miles of the venue...but that's besides the point.

They just announced on the news that theres a bunch of mothers who have gotten together to sue Miley Cyrus's fan club because they were too slow to get their spoiled children tickets. All theyre asking for is their $30 in fan club memberships back.

The fan club CLEARLY stated that tickets were not garunteed. It CLEARLY stated that fan club members get a CHANCE at tickets before the general public.

If you have a brain, you know that they obviously just wanted people to shell out money for the fan club.

Also, if you have a brain, you know that the CD you bought for your 5-year-old bundle of spoiled joy had a 30-day free membership to said fan club. Which you could have used for your CHANCE at tickets. Which really weren't as hard to get as freakishly scary soccer moms on a powertrip think. I could have made 3 orders of tickets the day fan club went on sale (if I'd had enough money in the bank)...trust me...I looked up tickets after my first order went through...just to see how they were selling....
I could have made quite a few more orders the day they went on sale to the public too.

So maybe these mothers should sue themselves for being stupid and slow and not knowing how to buy concert tickets for their spoiled children??

Just a thought.

I think I'm just sick of hearing about these crazy moms trying to make other people pay because they couldn't get tickets to this show. And acting like NO ONE got tickets except scalpers. Excuse me. Some 20 y/o fans want to go too...and we know how to click "buy tickets".

I have this hobby of constantly updating my “Who I’d like to meet” section on my Myspace page. Mostly because I constantly discover new people on this Earth that do amazing things and that I’d like to tell how incredibly wonderful they are.

When I get to erase someone from the list, it’s almost a bittersweet moment. Yes, I've met them, but I always seem to fall in love with the anticipation of accomplishing the task and that feeling dies the moment you’ve said hello, shook hands and they walk away.

I just had the pleasure of erasing one of the names on my list. It has been on there for awhile and been in my head even longer than I’ve had a Myspace page. This weekend I had the pleasure of meeting one of the best pop songwriters ever, Mr. James Bourne. He played his first songwriting showcase this weekend in New York at the Living Room. I remember being at a Jonas Bros show last month and texting Cassie “even if they did screw up the lyrics, at least I get to see a band perform Busted songs in my lifetime” Never at that moment did I think I’d ever see one of those songs performed live by a member of that band. I walked in and there he was, just sitting there smiling. I remember thinking, okay, I thought I’d be more excited than I am. Then came the first note and it dawned on me. At some point I grew past the hype and the image and the music became enough. I’m not going to say that there aren’t artists that make my heart flutter and my knees go weak, but at some point it became more than that. I pick up old pop CD’s that I used to be obsessed with that realize how awful the music was. Yet, I claimed these bands as mine. These boys were mine. I was in love with an image and they sang a few love songs to string me along. Then, there are other CD’s that I used to listen to occasionally but probably just bought because I liked the radio single. At the time I could have cared less because the band didn’t mean anything to me. I’ll put them in now and find a few amazing songs and get attached to them years later.

Sometimes you fear growing up. Sometimes you embrace it. Sometimes you step back and realize what’s important. There comes that day when you stop worrying about what others think and worry about what you think about yourself. The day that you realize that you are prettier than the kids used to say you were. The day you realize that even though someone you looked up to told you that you couldn’t do it, that you can. The day that you begin to enjoy what life has to offer and stop letting it pass you by while you chase things that you may never catch.

Enjoy the chase...just take the time notice everything passing by the window while you’re on your way.

My current “Who I’d like to meet” list is as follows:

Paul McCartney. Brian Wilson. Walt Disney. Crouton. William Beckett. Keith Urban. Sammy Stevens. Hemingway Wentz. 

I plan to knock one out tomorrow.

So, it's one of those nights when I have to wake up really early to catch a flight and I can't sleep. My space heater cuts off at the one hour point and I never fall asleep before it's off. I just heard it cut off. I only have 5 hours to sleep and now I have four and time's wasting away as I type. I tried to sleep again when I got a call and decided I'd rather chat than try to sleep. So, here I am. Reading blogs and typing my own, against my better judgement.

I'm really looking forward to all of the wonderful music I will get to experience in NYC including Family Force 5, James Bourne and of course Jorge Buccio. Jorge is an old Italian man who spends his nights at a tiny Italian restaurant getting people out of their seats and shaking their napkins. Literally.

Last night was what they call, I believe, "Country Music's Biggest Night." I recently became...gasp...a manager. I don't want to talk too much of it at this point, but everyone knows that this is eventually what I want to do. I'm only 90% confident in myself but 110% confident in this band. I really don't know what else I'm waiting to learn so I might as well go for it. Anyways, Cassie took one half of this duo to the Country Music Awards. I stayed at home, watching it on TV while eating Taco Bell. On any other given night, I'd choose dressing up for an industry event and Cassie would choose Taco Bell. In fact, at any given moment she will choose Taco Bell.

After the awards, there were parties, and who am I to pass up a good party? It was at this point that I got to dress up and head down town. I started my evening off at the Palm for the Warner Bros party. Personally, I say it was my favorite. The best part of this soiree was by far the GIANT shrimp! These were the largest shrimp I had ever seen and they tasted even better than they looked. It was also at this point in the evening that I realized "I know people." Last year while at the same party, I kind of mingled with the same people and we stuck to ourselves. We didn't know that many people and didn't really have the confidence to meet others. I realized last night how much I have grown during this year. This party was far too overcrowded, and I'm sure all of our friends "getting each other in" wasn't really helping the situation. After the 10 minute walk, squeezing from one room to the next, I realized that I had seen at least a dozen people that I knew by name and who knew me as well. I felt accomplished. I think it came full circle while standing in a small conversational circle with Cassie, Tyler and 2 of my good friends from WEA, Robert and Lisa. I introduced Tyler and Robert and then they both let me know that they knew each other. Then it dawned on me...of course! ...I then said to Tyler "Oh yeah, the first time I hung out with Robert was when he got me into your meet n greet three years ago." We all laughed and had some sort of group hug.The evening followed taking a cab across town to the Capitol party which we were far too late to enjoy, then Lyric Street where there was an amazing spread of food! Wow, I talk about food a lot. I mean, I love it!

Everyone should head out to the Knitting Factory tomorrow night to support Chap Stique and his band Family Force 5. Show is at 6:30 and tix are 10 bucks! Ok, maybe 13. http://www.myspace.com/familyforce5 I'm too lazy to look it up. 

That means it must be time for sleep. I must have energy to dance tomorrow!

This started off as an email. At some point, I decided to make it a blog. Thanks for getting me going Steve.

Sometimes you just don't know what to say. Sometimes things go a certain way because things are meant to happen. These things are far bigger than you, but you feel special knowing you are a part of them. I can honestly say that I just saw something happen that I thought would never happen, at least not in front of my eyes. I just saw a performance, that at this moment, I want to classify as "the best," but I'll take into consideration the lingering heat of the moment and say that after the shock wears off, it will end up in the top 5.
nobody puts baby in the corner.

Sometimes you get opportunities, because you work for them. You jump on the moment and give it your best shot. I work better on teams than I used to think I could.

When creating this site I wanted to make these artists and other people involved, prove that they had something to say. Prove that they had insight in this industry and in the world around them and had more to say than you can fit into 12 tracks on an album. I wanted to prove that though this industry seems to be closing in on itself, that there are a few who will be strong enough to triumph over it and create a better model. Not all artists are being used by their labels. Not all vocalists have nothing to say. Not all people living in this world that others find "elite" consider their lives to be that at all. At the end of the day, we are all just trying to make ourselves, and the people around us, happy. Today I saw 8 people, who many kids look up to as being some sort of god, speak to a group of college kids about their insight on the industry and their careers. They were far more well spoken and down to earth than some might imagine. They had educated opinions and ideas about what is happening right now and how to prepare for the future. For a group of people that I often put on some sort of pedestal, they did a fine job of staying up there in my mind. I stood there, feeling like I was watching my children speak their minds to an audience of doubters. I take up for these people at the drop of a dime, but watching them prove my opinions right in front of an audience, who turns their nose up at me when wearing this band's tee shirt, was one of the most satisfying things I could ask for.
It's nice not to drown in dissappointment for once.

So, I've, I definetley don't want to say that I've wasted, but used, half of my work day to achieve this hightened level of happiness and well...this once negative sentence is turning into something on the postive side. Let's say...who cares! I do however have work to catch up on and have no concentration in my body knowing what I just saw and knowing what I'm going to be experiencing tonight. I'm reminiscing of England. I took a train down to Bournemouth and actually purchased the last ticket to the Fall Out Boy show. I call it fate. Cassie calls it, the show that led her to the best plate of jerk chicken she's ever inhaled.

I'd never bet on it, but I feel that I can say that I know the way your head works better than half of the people I've claimed to be in love with.
"would you mind if i sat next to you and watched you smile"

Though I should be heading off to dreamland, which trust me, exists during my sleep cycle, I have the urge to blog and so I shall. I also have the urge to run to Wal Mart and pick up the new Backstreet Boys CD as it is now a few minutes past midnight in Nashville. However, the last time I tried to do this I was shut down and totally wasted my time. I believe the days of the midnight music purchase are over unless you’re at Virgin Megastore in Times Square. Although I would LOVE to be in NYC tomorrow and wait in line with 499 other crazy BSB fans, I am taking the day to drive down to quiet little Arkansas and Dance RAWR Dance my butt off!! I really need to see a good show right now. It’s been far too long and my dancin’ shoes are getting anxious. In one week I get to Dance, Dance and well, if you ever see me at a FOB show, it’s probably worth stopping and watching the spectacle that is my dancing. I never said I was good, but I do know how to have fun!
My new favorite activity is looking through Facebook pictures of The Click Five on their travels through Asia. It’s so exciting to see all of their fans going absolutely nuts for them. I really wish I could be there to see it in person. I began discussing plans for this today with Cassie and we concur that the next time this happens, we are going to see it for ourselves.
In one month exactly I will be no doubt up and still packing about to catch a plane in a few hours and fly off to London with some very cool friends of mine. I am looking forward to this trip like there’s no tomorrow. I am mainly looking forward to seeing McFly, British teeny bopper mags, cheap chocolate, train stations and did I mention McFly? This will be the longest wait, but time will fly by. There’s always so much to do before leaving the country and I really need to start planning now, especially since I get back, throw a Christmas party (this year themed Feliz Navidad!), drive to Dallas with the pops to Texas Stadium and then all the way back home for Christmas. Anybody have any suggestions for New Year’s? I did NYC last year and I'm looking for a new scene.

Even though it's becoming cliché to blog about the season around here, I too need time to put in my two cents. I love seasons. I love holidays. I love entertaining. I love life!

On Saturday I attended the Franklin, TN Pumpkin Festival with a few friends. I love the quaintness of Franklin. It reminds me of Williamsburg where I spent many autumn days as a child. Soon after arriving we all admitted that we were there for the food so Meghan and I strolled over to The Cocoa Tree. Five tiny truffles later and we had spent over 10 bucks. I must say they were well worth it. Then, we strolled around speaking to street vendors, learning of their small businesses and making a few purchases. We started to smell the aroma of fried potatoes, chicken, pickles, funnel cakes, corn dogs...You name it, they fried it. Meghan got a plate of fried potatoes and I opted for a bag of fresh kettle corn. We walked over to a tower of painted pumpkins decorated by children. This became a serious discussion of art and between the three of us we had many differing opinions. "I think I was just pushed out of the way by a Transformer!" We vacated the area. We strolled along and admired an enormous lopsided pumpkin. It was at this time that I told the tale of my pumpkin farm visit last year when Cassie decided to lie on a giant pumpkin and was scolded by a scarecrow. We continued down the road and began to browse through tiny specialty stores where I purchased a Christmas gift for my mother and reminisced about British tea parties. We watched a band, dosi-doe'd, admired a wedding party and a child that may have been dressed as a drag queen before heading out. After hitting my last booth I noticed Tyler at a distance most likely walking to his car. Didn't see any point in running across the square so here's that "hello." Do you have any interesting tales from the festival? After leaving the booth we came across a small petting zoo. Everyone else opted to go in, but I opted to keep my hands clean and eat my kettle corn. A car horn sounded and the llama began to panic. I screamed and ran. The only hoofed animal that I fancy is Lightning, MTSU's mascot. Later in the evening I joined some friends at Noshville and ordered far too many pancakes.

Today my morning plans fell through and I sat on the couch watching Hannah Montana for far too long. Later in the evening a few of us decided to visit the Nashville Zoo for their Halloween festivities. I was particularly excited about the "haunted" hayride and was not disappointed. Two displays included a giant draygon, (misspelling intended) one emerging from a swamp and one flying overhead. I was very pleased with the bubble tunnel as well! We visited the pumpkin tree, the Monster Mash dance station and watched children climb in and out of the rear end of a giant draygon/sea horse inflatable. I'm sure pictures will be coming soon. They are well worth viewing. Afterwards we (or, I) decided that Dairy Queen sounded good and spent at least an hour trying to find one that carried pumpkin blizzards. No luck. We then ended up going through the drive-thrus of Taco Bell, Jack-in-the-Box and McDonald's as we all wanted different things. My weekend is over and it's back to work, and back to healthier food, but I'm thoroughly looking forward to the Dance RAWR Dance tour on Tuesday as well as my Halloween movie night on Wednesday. My friend and I are going as "Love Addicts." What will you dress up as this year?

1. October is Breast Cancer Awareness month. Visit http://myspace.com/pinktogether to share your stories or read stories about how this disease has affected other people’s lives.

Also, visit the Susan G. Komen Foundation for more information on the disease, how you can help yourself detect the disease early and how you can help find a cure.

2. My friend David from the band Jackson Waters is spreading the word about his father’s new project. He is trying to raise money to rebuild the student ministry building on the campus of the University of Arkansas at Monticello. Check out this Facebook group to find out how you can help.

3. The One Love’s very own Josiah is playing a show tonight in Nashville. The show starts at 9pm sharp at Mercy Lounge and costs $10. Trust me, you don’t want to miss this. Oh, and get there early. Last time I was there, parking was horrible and I missed half of Tyler’s set. :o(

Let Josiah know you love The One Love and he’ll love you. Actually, he’ll love you anyway. He’s a really loving guy.

*Lyric borrowed from McFly. 

Sometimes people let you down. Sometimes you forget why you ever cared in the first place. Sometimes they take back their opinions and beliefs that you bought into. You realize that every word you hung onto in your mind isn't worth hanging onto anymore. Most things fade in time, no matter how strongly you think you feel about them. You start to worry that it’s all over. You start to worry that the base of the tree which your branches grew from is being cut down - and as it dies, so will all of your ideas, thoughts, beliefs, hopes and dreams.

All of a sudden, they go and do something amazing. You begin to remember why you ever cared in the first place. You remember what it was that caught you eye, your ears, your mind and your heart. You remember that time when you smiled so big that it made you cry. You remember that time that you screamed and didn’t even realize you were going to until it came out of your mouth. You remember the moment that they took your breath away. They pulled you in and you couldn’t look away – and they can do it again. They’re just that good.

Sometimes you need a soundtrack to write a blog. Drowning always makes me feel alive.

You wrote a song.
 

You wrote a letter.
 

You called me your friend.
 

You told me you were sorry.
 

You kept your distance.
 

The brain worries, reconsiders and doubts…but the heart never lies.

What an awful few days. I've been so thoroughly disgusted and/or disappointed by at least six people that I know, love or look up to that I feel like I have no place to turn. So, I wiped my eyes and turned to the person who inspired me to begin this site in the first place. I like to drown in his words, along with the rest of the 13-18 year old emo-loving kid population. I however fit none of these stereotypes but appreciate the brutal, uncensored honesty. 

"in all honesty we cant wait to get back to the states and play some shows. the one we have ready for YWT is gonna be crazy, got some ideas we have never messed with before. and i know i am always saying on here that we have some crazy suprise planned but then i dont tell the suprise- so here's one: we are going to play a couple of secret shows on the tour- duh whats new- but we are going to be playing only take this to your grave songs at these shows. keep your ears to the ground, we are going to keep these very secret."

I don't remember the last time I felt chills, but I just had a pleasant reminder of what they feel like. 

It's Sunday night and I've been working all day. The lights in this office are too bright and I've yet to buy light bulbs for the lamp in the corner. I can't figure out the heating system and my hands are struggling between finding a home in my hoodie pouch or the keyboard for any given period of time. I spent the morning in bed trying to convince myself that I wasn't pretentious, I am successful and reassured myself that between God and myself, I don't need to lend control of my life, beliefs, projects or company to the hands of anyone else. I am not ashamed of my past. I am not hiding anything. Refer to blog 1 for a description of my past which has shaped my future. However, I can't seem to escape the stereotypes of that lifestyle no matter how hard I try. Even people who I thought respected me are letting me down. Just because I said something once upon a time doesn't mean I can't change my mind, grow up and become a successful and respected adult. I find that I've been struggling with gaining respect from people who knew me in the past, for a few years now. I am a very passionate person and am not going to apologize for anything. Don't think you can change me. Don't think I'm going to necessarily accept all of your ideas, because I accept some. Respect me for the passion of my past. Respect me for who I am today. Respect my goals for the future...or get out of my way.

"tonight the headphones will deliver you the words i cannot say"

XO/Get Busy Living Or Get Busy Dying (do Your Part To Save The Scene And Stop Going To Shows)

Listen to it backwards for once. 

http://www.thegigrig.com/acatalog/Artists.html

Scroll far.

It was one year ago today...almost to the hour, considering it is 11:16p in the UK, that I was leaving my very first McFly show. I'm sure that doesn't seem too exciting to most, but for a girl who tried desperately to find ways to subscribe to British teeny bopper magazines, from America, through her adolescent life; seeing a real live British boy band in Scotland was quite a feat. I don't use the term "boy band" in any other way than with the greatest of respect. It all started with Alvin, Simon and Theodore and I'm still sitting here counting down to the next Backstreet album. Boy bands, you see, are my pride and joy in life. Without them, I don't think I'd be sitting here today. It is because of The Chipmunks that I loved the Monkees and because of the Monkees that I loved the New Kids on the Block and because of them that I loved the Backstreet Boys and then it just got a little crazy. There was No Authority and I'll definitely give Plus One credit for my ending up in Nashville. My walls were covered with Busted and Natural and O-Town and 98 Degrees. I loved them all! Even as an adult, this obsession has shaped my entire life and career. I met my business partner in a college dorm and we bonded over BSB. We now own a successful business and I attribute this site to none other than Ben Romans, arguably a member of a boy band.

Mozart was a pop star.
                                                                The Beatles were a boy band.

Today they come in many shapes and sizes. They are disguised. I'd like to call them out, but I'd rather respect my industry and keep its secrets. You don't even realize your favorite band is being marketed to you as a boy band. I find it fascinating. I have made a living out of it. All I know is that if it worked on you when you were 12, take a closer look at what you're buying now. It's probably not as different as you think.

This argument...speech...I'd say platform was the inspiration for this site.

After a long night at a pub in Nottingham England, The One Love was born. As of this Friday, the day you are most likely reading this, the idea will be one year old and the world can finally embrace it. It came from the idea of respect. Music is music, however you put it. Whether you like it or not, you can't condemn other people for engulfing themselves in it, the same way you engulf yourself in yours. In my opinion, its better than sex, drugs...but of course I can't argue Rock & Roll. Someone else likes cats and you like dogs. Yet, you respect them for their love of animals. Someone else cheers for another sports team, yet you can still bond over your love of the game. Someone else likes pop music and you like anything but. Why does the respect stop there? Blur the line. We're all here for the same reason. Won't you join us? Join us to bring respect to all music. Come together with people just like you. Then, take the time and energy you spend trying to differentiate yourself from them, and help them instead. Help us all in the music community...the fan...the artist...the producer...the songwriter...come together. The One Love.