Unfettered

It was sublime.

I wasn't able to meet Jason Mraz, but I did get to go to both of his concerts. They were, in a word, incredible. Normally, I would expound on this, but because I am still coming down from this high he hath wrought, I will be embarassingly hyperbolic if I do so. To wit: he was born to sing, this man, and the world is a better place for it.

Last night, twenty or thirty minutes before his show at the NBC Tent began, I asked the stage manager to give him a care package that I'd put together myself. It held a letter, of course, Brian's Bad Cat postcards, a cd and a book, a few dreams, and a story or two. I'd put them all in a blue rattan bag which he can give as a gift when he gets back home. I hope it reached him: it was my way of thanking him for inspiring me with his music and his positivity, my fail-safe device in the event that I did get to meet him in person and words fail me, as they are wont to do when I am overwhelmed with emotion.

Tonight, I hold my birthday dinner at Bellini's, with friends. I am turning a year older on Tuesday, January 24. Every year gets better: I know, with every bone in my body, that being 26 in 2006 will be amazing.

And it all starts today.