Zwölf, Elf, Zehn

Today is the day, December Eleventh, 2010. Rammstein's first concert on US soil in 9 years. I'm really hurting that I can't go. While it may be a temporary sentiment (unlikely), work is a ridiculous alternative to attending a seminal show. I won't be able to stop thinking about it.

Twelve Eleven 'Ten. Today at work I'll be anxiously watching the clock, trying to figure out what I could have been doing instead. Waiting in line, getting lost on my way from the airport, freezing under the magnificent fire display, and singing myself hoarse to the industrial tones.

I really hope this ends out being worth it. The issue is that no one at my place of work really likes or even understands the appeal of Rammstein. My obsession, my fandom, is dismissed as fancy and childishness. One of my few calming thoughts going through this day is knowing that in the "Many Worlds" interpretation of quantum theory, there is a reality where I have indeed gone to the show, maybe even been pulled on stage. Of course, by that logic, there is a universe where I'm not even a fan, hell, not even alive. It's a conundrum. I'll just keep at the issue at hand.

Rock On Rammstein!

-The0