OHMIGOD, YOU GUYS, KELLY CLARKSON IS COMING TO TOWN AND I FOR ONE AM TOTALLY AND UNCONTROLLABLY EXCITED FOR THIS EVENT.
Shut up. She's awesome. No, really. Really. Did you hear? She won a Grammy. Oh no wait. She won TWO. I mean, I know the Grammies aren't super-awesome judges of musical talent, but...
KELLY CLARKSON IS AWESOME.
I voted for her on the first American Idol, mainly because I thought that was it. We found one Idol and we were all set. And we may as well have, because Kelly is the only one anyone I talk to knows anything about. Fantasia? Where is she? Carrie Underwood is all over country radio, but I never hear her stuff unless she's singing on American Idol. Ruben had a stroke and has been dead for two years, I think, and Clay is busy putting his fluids on men's clothing. But Kelly? Somebody (Guarini, I'm looking your way) dumped her. And the girl was mad. Then she wrote some songs (she's got writing credits on many of the album's songs), sang the hell out of them, and appealed to everyone's inner 16-year-old, whether or not you're 13 or 30. She's got less whine on her the Levigne does, a better voice, and she's got a reputation for giving American Idol a finger or two when it's back is turned.
And now she's touring. And you'd best believe I'm buying tickets first thing Saturday morning. I may even buy a tour shirt. Because I am too old to give a shit if I'm cool or not. I like Kelly Clarkson. Shut it, hipsters.
I am also seeing Nine Inch Nails in June, and perhaps the Indigo Girls in July for my birthday. I am nothing if not diverse. Or bipolar. I haven't figured out which yet.
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