Waiting for the punchline…

The e-mail came through just after I got up from an unexpected (but not entirely unwelcome) post-dinner nap. In a way, I can’t say I was entirely surprised by its arrival. I am, after all, the poster child for Murphy’s Law. Still, it was a slap in the face that I didn’t need.

The one thing I’d looked forward to more than anything else this year…literally the only thing I’ve looked forward to this year…was yanked right out from underneath me. Months of excitement over the best seats I’ve ever had at Shoreline, the VIP parking I was able to score, the new album that I adore, the iTunes pass and collector’s edition box set of said new album that I splurged on, the extensive work I did as part of the street team…all for naught. Depeche Mode canceled tonight’s concert and will not be rescheduling it.

I wasn’t even two sentences into reading the e-mail bulletin (from LiveNation, no less; the band’s own e-mail didn’t come out for another half hour) when I burst into uncontrollable tears. I don’t know that words can adequately express the way I felt at that moment, or for the rest of the evening for that matter. I was angry, I was devastated, I was wrought and eventually I was just empty. I posted my disgust on Twitter, Facebook, FriendFeed, defending my feelings against mouthy assholes who would rather speak before attempting to understand a situation – all through thick tears and heavy heart. Taped to the front of my desk hutch – directly in my line of sight – hung an envelope containing the tickets and VIP parking pass mocked me with the Sounds of the Universe sticker I’d affixed to it back in April. Useless slips of paper to tuck away with my useless Fleetwood Mac tickets to serve as a future reminder of Why We Can’t Have Nice Things.

Today I’m just kind of numb and sad. I managed to cheer up a little talking to a few friends at work, but when the people go away, so does the cheer. I left my iPod at home because I cannot listen to any of their songs right now. I tried last night in a moment of ill-conceived clarity when putting together a playlist based on the tour setlist and launching it at 8:30 so I could have my own concert anyway, and all it did was upset me all over again. I’m having to avoid going online now because friends and acquaintances keep making statements about the band that just remind me of exactly what I’m trying to forget. And I’m sorry, I don’t expect people to extend sympathies or even pretend they care…but telling me “Oh that’s so sad! I wish you could’ve gone with me to the Seattle show because it was FUCKING INCREDIBLE” is really not helpful by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, it’s a pretty shitty thing to say and I’m wondering if it was said partially out of spite.

I know many people are confused and a bit unnerved by my reaction to the concert being canceled. It does seem a bit extreme…over the top and all that. But this has been a Not Very Good year for me. And the one thing that got me through all of that shit…the one fixed point in my year that kept me focused on moving onward…that was tonight’s Depeche Mode concert. When I bought the tickets back at the beginning of March, it was this ray of happiness that sustained me. I looked forward to it because I love the band and I love their concerts and for fuck’s sake, all I wanted to do was have fun and smile and be happy. And I got through everything…I came out on the other side of a hellish stretch of time with my sanity intact, ready to reap my reward.

So, yeah. Having that rug so unceremoniously yanked out from underneath me? It felt like a kick in the teeth. A definite blow that knocked the fucking wind out of me. I know I still have a job and a roof over my head and that matters more than most things in this current climate. But that doesn’t meant that the way I feel is any less valid. Ever since I got back from the festival, I’ve felt great. These past two weeks, I’ve had a spring in my step and I’ve felt like I could take on the world. This morning I feel sad and tired again. It’s jarring.

So I’m sorry if my apparent pity parade has disrupted your feed. I’m sorry if you can’t understand how I feel. I’m sorry that I’m just another fucking weirdo on the internet ripe for the mocking. My year has been one big cosmic joke and I’m still waiting for that damn punchline. I’m sure it won’t ruin your week to afford me just a little room for my tantrum. I’ll be done before you know it. Promise.