An Urban story

Today I bought a single ticket to see Keith Urban in concert on September 27. I think I have heard two of his songs, neither of which I can actually name. I wouldn't call myself a fan of country music, I don't even have a country music station programmed into any of my stereos. The ticket was only 20 bucks (25 when you add all the fees and taxes) but I'll be in the upper deck.

Why Jill? Why?

Truth is, I wasn't entirely sure I was going to be able to get a ticket. They did a presale earlier in the week so I figured the limited number of cheap tickets would actually be gone. I had no intention of buying a $70 or above priced seat. I noticed that he also had tickets on sale for a second show in Saskatoon and there were $20 tickets left for that one. My backup plan was going to be to buy a ticket to that show and take my very first solo road trip.

A nine-hour solo road trip in late September to the bustling metropolis of Saskatoon, SK to see a concert for a guy you can't even call yourself a fan of, who performs music of a genre you never listen to? Tell me this adventure is in the name of a very hot, very rich man you have recently discovered.

I suppose Keith is kind of attractive. He's married though (yup, just my type, as Adam would point out). Nope this is just me again doing the "I am an independent and fearless young woman who likes to try new things" thing. I mean, it's 20 bucks. If I have five minutes of fun I think I can call it successful. Lord knows it can't go any worse than the last time I went to a concert by myself. Truthfully, I think this "fiercely independent" bit has a lot more to do with fear than growth. It's a defense. But I'm not going to go into that right now.

I've heard stories before about people who get organ transplants and suddenly find that their tastes have changed. Like, suddenly they love red peppers when prior to the operation they didn't like them at all. Or there's the people who come out of comas and their personalities change. I eat Rice Crispies now. I used to hate Rice Crispies. I didn't even really care much for cereal period. And what's with this country music thing that has now come about? I'm still the same person at the core, but something is different. Maybe aliens abducted me and gave me a new spleen. Yeah, that's it, new spleen. Explains everything.