First, the End:

As I was leaving the building, I see, (and hear) a 14 year old girl screaming into her phone “OMFG I GOT TO KISS MIKA! I GOT TO KISS MIKA!”

I rolled my eyes as I pushed my way past. Kids. If I had gotten close enough to Mika to kiss him, he would not have made it away unscathed. I’d have been on my knees with his dick in my mouth before security could even register what happened.

…..

I finally got to see my boyfriend Mika in concert Saturday night, thanks to Jefferson, who rocks my fucking socks off.

He sang, he danced, I had loads and loads of fun pushing my way closer and closer to the stage, I even danced and sang and jumped up and down and screamed.

I didn’t really know what to do when I had my hands up in the air though. My natural reaction is to form my hands in to the horns, which is not really the vibe at a Mika concert. Yes, he does rock, but you can’t throw the horns a group of people in shiny clothes and giant furry costumes and such. I should have un-folded my thumb, and simply switched from the horns to the ASL version of ‘I Love You’ but I wasn’t thinking. I wound up just sort of waving.

It was also fun to go to a show, and for once, NOT get punched in the head. While there was some shoving and such at Mika during the dancing, the intention was not to actually hurt people. You can’t listen to his music and be all “Oh man, I love this shit, I can’t wait to fling myself against everyone else and disregard all notions of personal safety”. You listen to Mika and go “Man, I love life, and I think I want to dance, and then make out with the gay boy standing behind me.”
See, I normally go to show for bands who have mosh pits and stuff, and I’m not *really* a mosh pit kind of girl. I just wind up in the pit because I want to be close to the stage. At FATA, I got kicked in the teeth by a stage diver, and at Type O Negative, I first lost my glasses when a stage diver decided to grab my face to keep from falling, and then repeatedly got elbowed in the head by the tall fat guy standing next to me.

Speaking of, Miz Muley finally sent me the pictures she took at ToN, so ya’ll can see how close I was to my other boyfriend, Peter Steele. He spit wine on me. It was a tasty red of some sort, a Merlot, I believe.

I don’t have photos or video from Mika yet, but one of the other girl who came with us took some shots, and shots from a few days earlier, when she saw him in another city. I must get in touch and procure these.