I hate crying. Really, it shreds me up inside. I refuse to cry around anyone if I can help it, and would rather scream to be left alone than let someone comfort me when I have to endure it. Tonight, I sobbed in public and I'm not proud of it. The story goes like this. I was incredibly excited for a concert tonight, Bassnectar, along with other folks, such as the Glitch Mob and more. I accidentally had two tickets. My sweet mother bought me one and I bought myself one, so I decided I'd just sell the other ticket to lovely Tatiana. The tickets came in the mail, we went downtown early and were first in line, I did not forget my ticket, everything was fine. We got to the ticket check, and they inform me that the piece of paper I have is not actually the ticket. Its the receipt. I ran to the will call, and they gave me a real ticket. I ran back. That ticket had already been used. I ran back and they checked the account. That ticket had gone in seven minutes ago. Seven. Minutes. Tatiana, darling girl, had the real ticket. I started to break down. Cried for several minutes before I called Tati, told her I was going home, called my dad and got dropped off at Forrest's so that I could at least salvage the night. It was awful, one of the worst experiences I've ever had to be truthful. And the worst part? The other ticket is here in my house, on the computer. It was a print out ticket. Sweet disappointment, we're quite close friends now. Fortunately, I have the cure, a good dose of blog medicine, and brunch with an old wonderful friend tomorrow. Not to mention that last night was date night and it was great. I will relay all of that tomorrow. You go enjoy your evening, don't feel to bad for poor pitiful me. I'm soaking in music, and writing a letter. Everything happens for a reason.