Maroon 5. In concert. Tonight. Indianapolis. Brooke & I.
Brooke is my longest running friend. I’ve known her since childhood, danced with her at our little small-town studio and then again on our high school’s dance team (poms). She was a senior my freshman year, which means two glorious nights a week, following pom practice, she would even drive me home.
She lent me homecoming dresses; I lend her shoes. She taught me how to keep chickens away when gathering eggs from the coop. I’d stay with her on the farm if she was home alone.
We attended the same college and stood up in each others’ weddings; she exchanged vows nearly ten years before I did. Consequently, she now has one son driving whereas mine is in pre-k. I babysat her boys so she could substitute teach to have a break from her stay-at-home-mom gig. She agrees to go on trips with me so I can have a break from mine.
She was the person I called in hysterics when I found out Dad had been killed (with Mark right by my side).
We don’t talk much on the phone or see each other in person often, but that’s not a reflection of our friendship. It’s more a reflection of living an hour apart and traveling sports team schedules and call schedules and you know, life.
However, every once in a while we prioritize concerts of all things. Our first was a Hanson concert in Milwaukee.
A Maiden Dixie Concert (featuring Brooke’s cousin).
Maroon 5 in August 2013 that I somehow have zero pictures of. And a Lake and Lyndale concert (Brooke’s cousin at it again) earlier this summer.
Today we continue the concert trend. We’ve made it to Indianapolis to see Maroon 5, and great googly moogly are we ever excited! It’s been planned since last December, and it’s finally here.
I mean, hello, it’ll be over twenty-four hours of just us. (I now anticipate adult conversation as much as I anticipated going to Six Flags as a child. No joke.) Plus, we get to stay in a hotel where we can do whatever we want upon arrival and sleep in as long as we want come morning (Brooke will win that one). We’re within walking distance of dinner reservations and the concert arena.
As for Maroon 5, it’s been five years since we saw them last. I was barely pregnant at the time. As in, the line on the stick was barely visible. I’d shown Mark the day before at the first hint of a positive. When I showed Brooke – because you know full well I saved all of the pregnancy tests – how did she respond?
“Uhhh, are you sure about that?”
I peed on another stick the next morning and showed her the line, slightly darker than the day before. She conceded. About eight months later, Miller was born. But back to the concert.
It Was Awesome!!! First off, Maroon 5 is one of my favorite bands, so there’s that. When they took the stage, the first half-hour was a solid wall of sound, and and I’m not referring to volume (though I need to be sure to pack ear plugs). An energy I’d never experienced before radiated from the stage. Those boys rocked it. They had full command of the outdoor venue, and it was incredible.
It was also incredible that I managed peeing in the porta potty WEARING A JUMPER and didn’t get any nasties on me or my clothes. This time around, I’ll be wearing jeans. And a t-shirt. And Converse sneakers for that matter, cause you know, High Heels Can Kiss My Ass.
Anyway, the whole point of this trip isn’t about a concert. It’s about friendship. That’s why this was scheduled to begin with.
To all of my lady readers, call a girlfriend and schedule a trip. It’s not about where you go or even what you do. It’s about relationships. It’s about pushing pause on your regular day-to-day life. It’s about making memories. Look at how many I’ve shared within one installment.
Speaking of which, here’s one more memory. I asked Brooke if she had a favorite picture to include, and she chose this little gem…from my bachelorette party.
Here’s to girlfriends. May we have them. May we prioritize them. Because they’re a common thread in the fabric of our lives.Here's to girlfriends. May we have them. May we prioritize them. Because they're a common thread in the fabric of our lives. Click To Tweet
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