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Actually, ever since I first realized I liked not just the boys but what they do: the music, the lyrics, the dancing, the showmanship, all the elements that comprise the phenomenon of *NSYNC.
I had a friend in high school who loved them above all else and beyond any threshold of decency. I've lamented before that somehow, I lived the majority of 1999-2001 in a dark, poorly-ventilated box. If I knew they existed, it was because everyone was bashing them as a Backstreet knockoff. This girl though, she was preaching the good word from the beginning, and while I never teased or berated her for it, we all just kinda smiled and patted her head when she mentioned it.
Oh, how things change.
Sometimes, when I spend a wee bit too much time listening to their songs or watching too much footage, I feel like I missed out on an important aspect of my girlhood by not being into boybands. (Incredibly, having learned much of my English from watching MTV and the Disney Channel, I was never into New Kids On The Block.) I definitely have the gene, or at least the disposition that makes the hardcore fangirl - the cheerful resilience necessary for standing in line for hours at ticket lines/appearances/concerts, the diligence that obsession commands, the wholehearted dedication that makes them uniquely special. But I didn't, and by the time of high school, I was all about stuff like Nine Inch Nails and, on a lesser note, more alternative rock bands like Third Eye Blind. But definitely not about pop music.
This girl has been to nine of their shows over her six years of obsession, one of them even before the Ain't No Stoppin' Us Now tour. She interned at our local paper solely in the hopes that she'd get to cover one of their shows on a press pass. She's gotten to meet Chris (who bought $70 worth of roses for the girl he was with) and Lance (who made his "guy friend" rather "jealous" by accepting a rose from her ("That is so sweet!") with a hug and a kiss on the cheek). There are few who deserve it as much as she does and I couldn't possibly be happier for her.
And tonight, I finally got to apologize for dismissing what's now become the same sort of oxygen-level necessity for me that it was for her all that time ago. I don't think I've ever felt less guilty about not spending the time studying for a final as I did talking to her and getting to hear stories about Lance's snooty boytoy. Definitely making the road trip to look in on her sometime this coming week.
In other news, Miranda is back and that is Good. I love JC more than mere words can express. How Lance went from the eerily feminine teenager to the distinguished if flaming man he is now continues to defy logic. My friend Anna hooked me up with a six-inch sandwich and medium drink at Subway for $2.36 *and* gave me two stamps toward the free sandwich card. The Matrix twins are hella cool. I no longer want to charge myself with self-plagiarism for the Joey story, which is evolving nicely and possibly done before the break of dawn.
Oh, and life is good.
I had a friend in high school who loved them above all else and beyond any threshold of decency. I've lamented before that somehow, I lived the majority of 1999-2001 in a dark, poorly-ventilated box. If I knew they existed, it was because everyone was bashing them as a Backstreet knockoff. This girl though, she was preaching the good word from the beginning, and while I never teased or berated her for it, we all just kinda smiled and patted her head when she mentioned it.
Oh, how things change.
Sometimes, when I spend a wee bit too much time listening to their songs or watching too much footage, I feel like I missed out on an important aspect of my girlhood by not being into boybands. (Incredibly, having learned much of my English from watching MTV and the Disney Channel, I was never into New Kids On The Block.) I definitely have the gene, or at least the disposition that makes the hardcore fangirl - the cheerful resilience necessary for standing in line for hours at ticket lines/appearances/concerts, the diligence that obsession commands, the wholehearted dedication that makes them uniquely special. But I didn't, and by the time of high school, I was all about stuff like Nine Inch Nails and, on a lesser note, more alternative rock bands like Third Eye Blind. But definitely not about pop music.
This girl has been to nine of their shows over her six years of obsession, one of them even before the Ain't No Stoppin' Us Now tour. She interned at our local paper solely in the hopes that she'd get to cover one of their shows on a press pass. She's gotten to meet Chris (who bought $70 worth of roses for the girl he was with) and Lance (who made his "guy friend" rather "jealous" by accepting a rose from her ("That is so sweet!") with a hug and a kiss on the cheek). There are few who deserve it as much as she does and I couldn't possibly be happier for her.
And tonight, I finally got to apologize for dismissing what's now become the same sort of oxygen-level necessity for me that it was for her all that time ago. I don't think I've ever felt less guilty about not spending the time studying for a final as I did talking to her and getting to hear stories about Lance's snooty boytoy. Definitely making the road trip to look in on her sometime this coming week.
In other news, Miranda is back and that is Good. I love JC more than mere words can express. How Lance went from the eerily feminine teenager to the distinguished if flaming man he is now continues to defy logic. My friend Anna hooked me up with a six-inch sandwich and medium drink at Subway for $2.36 *and* gave me two stamps toward the free sandwich card. The Matrix twins are hella cool. I no longer want to charge myself with self-plagiarism for the Joey story, which is evolving nicely and possibly done before the break of dawn.
Oh, and life is good.
