Dammit, I love Jason Mraz. Holy crap, I'm not kidding. If love were real, and it could be a tangible object, it would be Jason Mraz. And me. And we'd be in love. And, of course, making out a lot.
* That was the PG version of what I really meant to say. Hi, mom!
The show was incredible. IN-CRED-IBLE. Three syllables, and all. Wait, no. That's four syllables. Sleep deprivation causes syllabic errors, and I don't even know if syllabic is a word, and since WordPress apparently got rid of its spell check, guess I'll never know. (Edit: SPELL CHECK IS BACK!)
Back to the concert: sigh.
I don't even know where to begin. Except perhaps at the part where Jason joined opening acts Makepeace Brothers, Bushwalla and Justin Kredible on stage, and I almost died.
He just walked out and played. Just, you know, strolled on stage, like it was no big deal. Meanwhile, I was DYING inside. Real death. My chin had to be picked up from the floor, and if I could've propped my eyes open with toothpicks just to avoid blinking, I would have.
Dammit, I love him. Beautiful, beautiful man. Beautiful in that skinny, talented, probably really good in bed (MAKING OUT! MAKING OUT!) kind of way. The man can sing. And, dammit, if that's not hot to quite hot.
(I apologize for my incoherent babble. My excitement from last night has yet to dissolve, and cute boys turn me into a 13-year-old).
So, the "Music, Magic & Make Peace Tour," as it was so aptly named, came to Metro in Chicago last night, which is in Wrigleyville. Hello, Cubs paraphernalia. EVERYWHERE. (Go Brewers?) But the venue was fantastic! We walked in as Makepeace Brothers were doing their thing, and holy crap, we were close to the stage. No matter where you stood, you were close to the stage.
(Unfortunately not close enough to grope. Cough.)
Suh-peaking of Makepeace Brothers, they did not suck. At all. They've got more of an agenda - you know, making peace, and all - but they were good. It's refreshing to hear a positive message. Something other than political back-and-forths and songs about Apple bottom jeans. (Not that I don't turn that song up really loudly when I hear it).
(And they weren't ugly? Does that count? Of course it does.)
Justin Kredible (described as "like a magician, but cooler") hosted the show. And did some sweet magic tricks. And, wow, he is also not ugly. At all. Apparently he appears on the Rachael Ray show a lot, so all you RR fans need to keep an eye out for him.
(Because he is gorgeous? Yes.)
What also helps is that I met him after the show. We touched. Posed for a picture. He gave me his autograph and included "XOXO," which, I could be wrong, I think was a marriage proposal.
(DON'T WORRY, SAID NO!!) (MOM IS HAPPY!!)
And Bushwalla. My only prior knowledge of this man was that he's a friend of Jason. And, hi, any friend of his is automatically going to be on my iPod. So thankfully he was awesome. I was pleasantly surprised. He's got some pretty sweet skills. And he's hilarious. You can't go wrong with a sense of humor.
So, together - Makepeace Brothers, Justin Kredible (h-o-t), Bushwalla and Jason (just wet myself) - put on an amazing show. It was obvious they had a blast, which helped. I even drank a beer. REBEL!
But now it's time to talk about Jason. ARE YOU SITTING DOWN? Of course you are. You're reading a blog. (MY BLOG, no less. Hi!)
Dammit, he's good. Dammit, dammit, dammit.
I will preface this by saying he did not sing "Plane," which makes me sad, but I forgive him for his looks. And for every other song he sang. He did sing my two new favorites "Beautiful Mess" and "If It Kills Me," from his We Sing EP.
Dammit, those songs are good. And dammit, he can sing them.
And because I had my camera, which, turns out, SUCKS, I have lots of (SUCKY) pictures to share, and two videos. VIDEOS! Yay! I got about 60 seconds of footage each from "I'm Yours" and "You and I Both" - which was acoustic. And if I could put my magical, incoherent thoughts on the matter into words, I would. But for now, wait for the videos to come.
He performed a lot of new songs, which I generally hate at concerts, but Jason Mraz is grandfathered into any situation. He can do whatever he wants. Particularly if that involves me. And candle wax. (WHAT!? WHO SAID THAT!?)
Anyway. The songs were great. And, of course, I expected nothing less.
Speaking of dirty (were we?), he sang a new song called "Butterfly" (I'll also forgive him for naming a song after flying beasts) and it was dir-ty. Dirty lyrics. In fact, here is a performance of the song on YouTube. You are WELCOME. Keep your clothes on.
Dammit, I love him.
Every second of the concert was great. Even the beer. See, Jason? I drink BEER for you. (That = true love). He puts on a great show. And I can't help it if I want to touch him. I meant listen. Listen to him. All the time. Everywhere.
When his new CD comes out in May, I will then - and only then - be able to die a happy lady. And when his second EP (We Dance) is released on iTunes on Tuesday, sigh. That's really all I can say - sigh.
After the show Jason and I made out. (Jaaaaay-kaaaay!) (You thought I was serious, didn't you?) (Silly).
OK, what really happened was I met Bushwalla and Justin Kredible. Bushwalla autographed my ticket stub. He drew a heart. We're in love, too. Obviously. And Justin... well. You know. He signed my, uh... JUSTIN KREDIBLE FLYER. Duh.
They frown upon public displays of nudity in Chicago? Who knew?
The night ended (I forgot the part about it beginning with a Chicago-style hot dog. Yum? YES.) with bar food, scary train rides, scary thugs on said train rides, a scary cab ride, a scary walk and a loooong, late-night drive home.
Four hours of sleep later, here I am.
I realize this is a long post, and if you're still here, HI! Hi! Hello! Thank you! Aren't you jealous? I THOUGHT SO.
Please. Go see Jason Mraz. I'm not kidding. Amazing. Talented. (Hot?) And when you see him, give him my number. 608-48...
JUST KIDDING. Thought you'd get my number, didn't you?