Status: Updates every four days.
We Way? Three Way!
One Really Bad Jump
“Whoa kid, you’re shorter than Frank!” Thanks Mommy. Just for that, I turned out the tuning pegs on his guitar. That is, until I found out it was actually Padre’s guitar…oh well, still pretty funny. Mommy plays drums. And he’s really fun to hug, too…Except for that one moment where I accidentally hugged his bass drum instead…Too round.
For future reference, child leashes are NOT comfortable. Nor dignifying. Mosh pits, however…still not comfortable or dignifying, really. Somehow, a few seconds after getting sucked into the dark abyss of mosh-ness, I ended up on a stage -in front of about a gajillion people- with Jillian and Becca. My thought process? ‘Stage? People? Yeah, no.’ I ran to the side, past the microphone stand and through some fake stage smoke, and jumped off. It was about a five foot drop. While in midair, I tried to remember how to fall without hurting yourself. Unfortunately I wasn’t quick enough in remembering, but I hit the ground and seemed to be okay. I felt awful for leaving my friends up there, but they definitely had the right to follow me if they wanted. Or…maybe not. Gerard held both their shoulders, and he wasn’t quite as scrawny as Mikey. Finally, he let them both go, flipping them off as they turned. Gerard picked up the microphone again. “Let's forget that shit.” The crowd made lots of noise, and the rest of the band took their places again.
Becca used her famous method of locating people to find me. “Natalie! Natalie! Natalie! Natalie! Brown Hair! Natalie! Natalie! Short! Natalie! Natalie! Natalie! Natalie!”
“I’m here, I’m here, chill!”
“Oh, hi!” Jillian came up behind her. “We were all, where the hell did...shit, you’re bleeding.”
I’d been wearing a pair gray jeans that were slowly turning red at the bottoms. “I’m wha- oh…That’s odd. I didn’t think I got hurt at all when I jumped down.”
Becca was pretty good with patching up injuries. I was too, but she beat me to it. “Well, you did...”
I rolled up the right leg, a pretty deep gash wrapped around about halfway. “How the hell..?” We were backstage, so there were towels all over the place. Band people got sweaty. Jillian grabbed a clean one, and Becca jerked my leg forward to try and stop the bleeding. But, unfortunately, that didn't end well.
"FUCK. DON'T TOUCH IT FOR ONE MORE SECOND OR YOU WILL NEVER SEE THAT HAND DISPLAYING A NORMAL SKIN COLOR FOR ONE MORE DAY OF YOUR LIFE."
Jill took her hands off her ears. "Okay. Broken."
I gave Becca hug, cause I felt bad for yelling. But then the panicking started. Hospital...?
For future reference, child leashes are NOT comfortable. Nor dignifying. Mosh pits, however…still not comfortable or dignifying, really. Somehow, a few seconds after getting sucked into the dark abyss of mosh-ness, I ended up on a stage -in front of about a gajillion people- with Jillian and Becca. My thought process? ‘Stage? People? Yeah, no.’ I ran to the side, past the microphone stand and through some fake stage smoke, and jumped off. It was about a five foot drop. While in midair, I tried to remember how to fall without hurting yourself. Unfortunately I wasn’t quick enough in remembering, but I hit the ground and seemed to be okay. I felt awful for leaving my friends up there, but they definitely had the right to follow me if they wanted. Or…maybe not. Gerard held both their shoulders, and he wasn’t quite as scrawny as Mikey. Finally, he let them both go, flipping them off as they turned. Gerard picked up the microphone again. “Let's forget that shit.” The crowd made lots of noise, and the rest of the band took their places again.
Becca used her famous method of locating people to find me. “Natalie! Natalie! Natalie! Natalie! Brown Hair! Natalie! Natalie! Short! Natalie! Natalie! Natalie! Natalie!”
“I’m here, I’m here, chill!”
“Oh, hi!” Jillian came up behind her. “We were all, where the hell did...shit, you’re bleeding.”
I’d been wearing a pair gray jeans that were slowly turning red at the bottoms. “I’m wha- oh…That’s odd. I didn’t think I got hurt at all when I jumped down.”
Becca was pretty good with patching up injuries. I was too, but she beat me to it. “Well, you did...”
I rolled up the right leg, a pretty deep gash wrapped around about halfway. “How the hell..?” We were backstage, so there were towels all over the place. Band people got sweaty. Jillian grabbed a clean one, and Becca jerked my leg forward to try and stop the bleeding. But, unfortunately, that didn't end well.
"FUCK. DON'T TOUCH IT FOR ONE MORE SECOND OR YOU WILL NEVER SEE THAT HAND DISPLAYING A NORMAL SKIN COLOR FOR ONE MORE DAY OF YOUR LIFE."
Jill took her hands off her ears. "Okay. Broken."
I gave Becca hug, cause I felt bad for yelling. But then the panicking started. Hospital...?