This last weekend (which, combined with a semi-hellish first full week of classes, I have not entirely recovered from) I:

-Remembered why I love Fall Out Boy
-Fell in love with Chicago
-Fell out of like with a boy
-Earned a whole new respect for Blink-182
-Caught at least 2 dozen dudebros spend an hour and a half bashing FOB, then push and shove and sing along to every word once they got on stage.
-Spent entirely too much money
-Seriously, fell so in love with Chicago

In all flat out statement of honesty, I'm a concert junkie. I'm an addict. There is nothing better than feeling the bass vibrate through you, being in a crowd with thousands of other people singing along at the top of their lungs, the drums pounding in the soles of your feet and the pit of your stomach. If I could do anything in the world and money was no object, I'd be at those things every day. I could never get enough of it, never.

I want to go back to Chicago and never leave--at least until winter comes along, that might totally change my mind.