Posted by: Trisha Leigh | January 3, 2012

This is Going to be AWESOME. Or Not.

There are few things that stink as much as a night that doesn’t live up to expectations. I’m going to tell you something that is pretty embarrassing, and even though it happened some time ago, you’re probably still going to judge me. And I don’t blame you one single bit.

In college, my friend (let’s call her The Beast) and I somehow managed to acquire a rather rabid level of devotion to a little band (we’re using that term loosely) known as N’Sync. You might have heard of them. I’m aware we were just a smidge outside their target fan base, but that didn’t stop us from acting so nutso in the pursuit of the ultimate fandom that I will absolutely never, ever speak of them again. I’m not sure how we managed to come out of this dark, disturbing period in our lives with any friends at all. Cheers to those who stuck it out.

One autumn I came back to school early in August because we had floor seats to a N’Sync concert at Texas Stadium. It was going to be the best night of our lives.

Texas. In August. With thousands upon thousands of our closest friends and only a little moonroof to let out trapped heat.

I’ve never been hotter in my life. They took a record number of patrons out with heatstroke. I literally wrung sweat out of my sundress every thirty minutes. It’s safe to assume our spirits were already a bit dampened by the time we ran out during the encore.

Wait. We ran out? While our favorite band was still playing on stage and we were in the 4th row? Why on earth would we do such a thing?

I’ll tell you why. It’s because we knew about a little afterparty that a local club was throwing and promised the band would be in attendance later that night. OBVIOUSLY this was our chance to get Justin and Lance to fall in love with us.

The local club? An under 18-no alcohol-no parents type establishment. We were 21 at the time (I just died a little typing that), so The Beast and I had secured fake ID’s.

That made us younger.

They worked like a charm, but once inside we had to contend with an army of kicking, biting, sweating, shrieking teenage girls fighting for the best vantage point to see the guys once they arrived. The Beast used her considerable elbowing skills to secure us a pretty good spot ourselves, and we waited.

And waited, and waited, and waited.

More than 3 hours after we left Texas Stadium, N’Sync showed up. And they were wasted out of their minds. Little Justin Timberlake could hardly stand up, and none of them had a lick of interest in being on display (not that I blame them, for heaven’s sake, but why didn’t WE think to drink first).

We left. We were tired, soaked to the bone with sweat, and worst of all, it was all for nothing. The best night ever had turned into something like the worst disappointment ever, though The Beast and I can still have a good laugh about it from time to time.

You know what else is never, ever as good as you think it’s going to be? New Year’s Eve. I hate New Year’s Eve. What I want to do it spend it curled on the couch with my dogs watching all of the movies I need to catch up on, but since I’m single, that smacks a little bit of giving up.

New Year’s Eve is supposed to be about hope and anticipation and possibility, a night when anything might happen. “Out” is packed with other single people searching the room for their own possibilities, and if I’m “In” then it’s like I just don’t care.

Which I really don’t, but that’s a blog for another day.

At any rate, New Year’s Eve always disappoints on those big moments. Instead it’s full of queasy stomachs, shouted conversation, and waking up with a nasty headache before trekking to the nearest Whataburger. Which is not to say I didn’t have a great time with my friends. I did.

I think I’ve decided the key to everything is not expecting anything, and that way good times are a pleasant surprise. Is that a bad way to go through life? I don’t know, but so far it seems to be working for this girl.

What about y’all? Any funny stories about events that were supposed to be the pinnacle of greatness that turned into the biggest turd your life punchbowl has ever seen? Any GREAT New Year’s Eve stories?

If you have one, I think you deserve some kind of prize.




  1. I laughed several times during this post. Bet you can guess all the points where the chuckles came out.

    • Thanks for still being my friend. πŸ˜‰

  2. Okay, I’m still giggling that you got fake IDs to make yourselves YOUNGER. I love it! Whatever you went through on that turd-in-the-punchbowl day, it’s worth it just to have this story to tell. πŸ™‚

    TG always says the secret to happiness is low expectations. (Not sure what that says about me… *grin*) It’s true, though. Aim high, but don’t expect much. That way, whatever happens is a pleasant surprise.

    • It’s working so far. I’m certainly enjoying movies and television a lot more with that outlook. πŸ™‚

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