Hi, I'm a Failure

No, no, don't worry, this doesn't have anything to do with jobs.  This post deals with something far, far more important and much less attainable: Jimmy Buffett tickets. 

I woke up this morning with the aim of scoring four lawn seats for the Jimmy Buffett concert in Virginia Beach in late May.  Because of my heading, you already know how this story ends, but I will tell you anyway.  Tickets went on sale this morning at 10:00.  I was up by 8:30, and waiting around pretty much for the entire hour and a half--I was too excited to work or prepare any cover letters and I knew that focus was key to making my goal attainable.  As soon as Verizon told me it was 10:00 (for some reason the clock on Molly, my Mac, is a little funky and is about 3 minutes fast), I began the process.  And the obnoxious ticketmaster website made me wait and wait and wait.  When it first popped up, it said I had about a 15 minute wait.  Okay, fine.  I can handle fifteen minutes.  But the most obnoxious thing was that it would say 15....and then 14...and then 10...then 8....and then jump back up to 16.  Incredibly frustrating.

But I got tickets!  Four!  Lawn!  Exactly what I wanted.  I went to fill in my information, with the timer at the bottom telling me exactly how long I had remaining before my tickets would be released.  I knew I had to beat the timer.  I felt my heart racing and my excitement mounting--I was going to see Jimmy!  And this time, I'd be 21!  I had visions of me and Andy drinking margaritas and singing together, and then being driven home by somebody totally sober.  It was so lovely...for about five minutes.  I entered my credit card information, but it rejected it.  I realized my expiration date was off (because it saved my card from the last purchase I made on the site), so I fixed it.  I tried again.  Nope.  I checked, saw nothing wrong, and entered my information again when---bingo!--it took my tickets away, telling me I had tried to enter my information too many times.  I cursed, loudly, and then called my mom so I could curse with an audience.  And then I tried again.

Same deal.  15 minutes...14....12....8....5....12....14...you know.  Very frustrating.  But, this time, when it got to the end, it told me there were NO MORE TICKETS matching my search criteria.  I could've cried.  But, not one to be dissuaded, I tried again.  I convinced my sister to try, too.  No luck.  I tried and tried, for more than an hour, but still--no tickets.

I will keep trying, because I really want to go.

Oh, Jimmy....I love you.  You're just so adorable.

This picture just makes me laugh.  Funny how some people are more attractive as they age than they were when they were younger but, let's face it, I'd take him either way.

This is the dream of my life...  and because of my stupid debit card, I'm missing out.  I'm over 21, too, and I can't even go.  Ahhhhhh.  Life is so unfair. 

Could've bought one of these sexy fins for my car......  I'd be the envy of everyone.  The last time I went to Jimmy concert (in my pre-21 days), I was amazed to see how many people were tailgating.  They brought kiddie pools and sand boxes and grilled out with fins on almost every single car.  There were girls that were pretty much naked and men in the most horrible Hawaiian shirts you can possibly imagine.  It was incredible.  I guess I could always go just for the tailgate---or buy tickets off of a scalper.

Isn't this the coolest thing you've ever seen?  When I did a google search for Jimmy Buffett, this came up.  It would be soooo fun to have fin shaped ice cubes in my margarita! 

I vow to continue to look for some tickets---because I desperately want to go.  When I told Andy what a failure I am, he told me that he thought he might be running charters in Hatteras around then anyway and probably wouldn't be able to go.  Well, be that way.  But I love Jimmy and I want to go, boyfriend or not.  I'm sure I can find somebody else to go and drink margaritas with me!  And, who knows, if I do get tickets, he probably won't be able to stay away, anyway!  I mean, really, who DOESN'T love Jimmy?

Not. Giving. Up.