I have a fascination for the Compact Disc that I can’t shake. Sure, it’s “convenient” to get mp3s through Amazon or iTunes, but there is a bit of an issue with that type of purchase.

Quality.

Did you know that when files are converted to mp3s, there’s a loss involved? The compression procedure kills the over all quality which is quite audible if you listen to music as much as I do.

Moreover, there are different varieties of compression. You can buy a CD and then burn it – but if you know nothing of compression and Kbps, there’s a good chance you’re burning at the lowest bracket.

And let me tell you: that sucks ass.

I’ve noticed that purchases through Amazon are at 192Kbps. Excuse me? WHAT? The “best” mp3 is 320Kbps. Why, if I’m purchasing the damn thing, is it only at 192?

That shit just boils my bubble.

So, to make a stupidly long story short: I’m obsessed with CDs. I like buying tangible discs. I like tearing into the plastic wrap, even if it frustrates me to death getting it open. I love the smell of the paper booklets. I really enjoy reading all of the stuff inside.

I just like CDs.

And lately? I’ve been collecting Vinyls. Just because I can.

In other music related news, please check out Delta Spirit and Dr. Dog. DMB, Mental:ThreeSixty and I will be seeing them next Friday and I am JAZZED.

For that matter, I am so enamored by Delta Spirit I just bought their CD. A few hours prior to that, I bought this CD. There is a very limited pressing of the latter, so please do yourselves a favor and buy it. I mean… if you like Hip-Hop remixes of famous 80s tunes, that is.

EDIT: Please note that CDs are recorded at 1411.2 Kbps (source). You don’t even need to know math well to see that 1411 does not equal 128 or 192 and that even 320 still sucks ass.

I’d love it if my writing muse would come back.

I can’t say that I’m not filled with a plethora of topics to discuss, but I can definitely say that I’ve got no real will to do it.

There’s the whole election debacle, but it just gives me a headache.

There’s the issue of why so many men are anti-abortion and trying to tell women what to do with their bodies, yet that whole thing irritates the piss out of me.

There’s the discussion of race relation in this day and age, but I need to give it a whole lot more justice than just a few minutes in wordpress.

I could talk about Aaron, but I’m feeling kinda selfish about the whole thing and only want to share with those I know well enough to trust.

I will say that he is fucking awesome. I still can’t really wrap my brain around how lucky I am. I also don’t want to hear a bunch of advice, commentary, etcetera on my relationship from people that barely know me. My mom’s, best friends’, dad’s, and extended family’s approval is enough.

I could write about how I’m not moving to Providence anymore, and have known this for a while. Sorry, Big Dreams but Big Money Problems come first. I’m a bit tired of living a paycheck to paycheck life and I sure as shit won’t be one of those asshats without a retirement plan.

So. No dice Providence. I’ll come visit, though.

I could also discuss my issues with the blogosphere but something about that feels oddly redundant and entirely unnecessary. One things for certain, if you don’t fucking like what you read – don’t . fucking . read . it .

Problem solved.

Part of me wants to bitch and moan about my job, but we ALL know that’s a stupid idea. Besides, it’s solely up to me to make that change.

Either way, I just hope that eventually I’ll pick back up where I started. I’m just a bit exhausted from it all and frankly – that’s silly. It’s just a damn blog! I like to pretend that the number of comments I get doesn’t affect me in any way, what so ever… but I find myself wondering where certain bloggers have disappeared to.

I’d like to act as though I’m reading every single post every single one of you is writing, but that’s a total and utter lie. Moreover, I wish I was commenting more than I have been. Unfortunately, those blogspot comment code things are exhausting and frustrating after the thirtieth time.

Eh, I don’t even really know what point I was trying to make. Maybe there is none.

This about sums up the entire weekend.

Taken on the roof of a DC apartment building. You could clearly see the Washington Monument and the Capitol from there.

Deutlich and the Ice Luge

Can I just say, I didn’t even remember this part of the night. Oh, and I downed that stuff like a champ.

Yes I did.

The next day was a different story entirely…

Kids, never mix your liquors. Beer + Wine + Ice Luge Shots + Beer + Wine + Weird Smelly Shot = Bad Idea.

Ceddie

For twenty-four years you’ve been in my life. When we were younger, I didn’t always care for this. Sometimes, I just wanted to be the center of attention – much like I was before you came around.

We went through our ups and downs for a good while there too. I mean, who chases each other around with kitchen knives?

We did.

That’s for damn sure.

In hindsight, the antics we put each other through would make anybody’s head spin. I almost feel bad for mom and dad.

Almost.

And then somewhere along the way we both realized that we’re the only sibling the other was ever going to have. We grew up and grew closer.

There were no more stupid fights, no curse-out sessions, no arguing over dumb shit that didn’t matter.

I remember when things were difficult for you in school. When your teachers were such assholes that they decided to tell you that you would never amount to anything.

To this day it boils a bubble of anger in me that won’t subside.

Moreover, I ALWAYS knew they were wrong. Even in the days when you and I did not get along. You could build computers and potato guns from scratch. Sure, the latter was meant for debauchery – but how many people know how to build one of those suckers?

I’m sure you and your friends also really appreciate that I took you to the Home Depot to buy the supplies.

Oh, the joy of being an older sister.

This especially came in handy once I turned 21.

::hint hint::

What I’m really just trying to get at is that I love you more than words can say.

You continue to amaze me with how mature you are, your level-head and your ever growing strengths. I am so proud to call you my brother that I can’t shut up about you.

I miss you, Cedric.

I love you and I wish you a very Happy Birthday.

-Your Big Sis

So here’s the deal.

I don’t think I’ll ever shake this love I have for the Backstreet Boys.

I know, half of you are laughing. Some of you are nodding. Others of you are sighing.

I don’t much care.

This can not be helped. It is so wholly ingrained in me that none of this should really be any surprise to you at all.

It started when I was 13 and visiting my grandparents in Germany. It was 1994 and the Boys were HUGE over there. I mean, it was ridiculous. And I was thirteen.

Upon my return to the U.S., I lost touch with the whole thing. I had borrowed my friend’s CD for the summer in Germany with no way to record it. Skip to a couple years later and they’re dancing to As Long As You Love Me on the European MTV Awards on my television set.

I was instantly hooked. Well, re-hooked. I didn’t realize yet they were the same band my tween-self had fallen in love with. Not until I borrowed another German friend’s CD, played the disc, and realized I was singing every song from beginning to end.

Somewhere along the way it clicked and I made sure that I saw them at the Constitution Hall in DC on January 23, 1998.

My first concert in life.

I had just turned 16.

I was in the thirteenth row.

It was the beginning of one of the craziest “eras” of my life. I’m not all that old, but I’m pretty sure that nothing will compare to the sheer amount of tour-hopping, magazine collecting, television show recording, money spending, road-trip induced memories I have stored from that whole time period.

It’s no big secret that I was an outcast in high school. That I disliked my peers. That I hated life. That I didn’t get along with my family and that life for a while there was hectic, if not downright upsetting.

I was young and dumb and had no idea how to cope with anything.

I know this is why I latched on to the sugary-pop music of that particular boyband. I know that not a lot of people will ever understand.

None of it matters.

Some kids turned to drugs, other kids turned to angry music, still others turn to sports.

Well. I turned to them and the entire thing. In hindsight, some of it was entirely over the top and completely unnecessary. But I wouldn’t change a single thing.

Not one.

I connected with other fans all around the globe. People I still keep in touch with today, ten years after the fact. People that helped me get through some of the most mind-bending years of my life. People that would fly from out of the country just to visit me. People that would save me front row spots for concerts. People that would go half with me on hotel rooms. People that gave me a free ticket for a DLF Charity Cruise (read: cruising with a Backstreet Boy). People that would listen to me at all hours of the night. People that I hold so close to my heart that I can’t give it proper justice.

This is the reason for my fanaticism. This is the reason I can’t just “shake it off.”

I know it sounds silly when you just look at the surface of it all. But if you dig a little deeper, you’ll see that there’s this massive community of like-minded people who were my crutch when I needed one the most. I won’t get into the nitty gritty, but I was suicidal for a time period and I can legitimately say that without people like Kat and Emma, I might not be here today.

You don’t know who they are, but I do. And I met them through our mutual love for this “boyband”.

And then?

Then I started to meet the Backstreet Boys. The first time that happened, I was 18. It was February 18, 2000 in State-College, Pennsylvania.

After idolizing them for years, I had no idea what to expect. But they were all so incredibly sweet it’s uncanny. Then I met them again. And again. And then some more.

Soon enough I was given accounting duties for Howie’s Dorough Lupus Foundation (DLF) fund raiser/charity event. For those of you not in the know, Howie is one of the BSB members and his sister died of Lupus several years back, after which he and his family formed this foundation.

During the last tour, I met a young lady with lupus who was told by her doctor that without the DLF’s contribution to raising awareness and funding for lupus, she wouldn’t have the medication she desperately needed.

And it’s moments like that which solidify my love for this boy band. I don’t care how stupid it sounds to anyone. I love them and that’s that.

Oh, and last night? I fulfilled my promise to Maxie and she met 3/4ths of the current line up thanks to an inside tip from head of security. Being a fan for the past 13 years seems to come with its perks. When Brian mentioned he remembered me from YEARS past, I turned back into my inner thirteen year old.

Tonight’s the concert.

I’m so excited I might shit a brick.