George Michael.

George Michael.

George Michael.

Amen.

The man lived up to all my expectations. And exceeded them.

Yes, George is getting old, but it didn’t matter when he was singing or swinging his hips. Nicky and I spent the night swooning and trying to spot the paunch he’s attempting to hide by wearing a jacket.

No words will do last night justice. But it was worth re-injuring my sore foot, injuring my other one and the sheer exhaustion.

Awe. Some.

(and yes, I cried happy tears while he was on stage)

X5DTREHMUG8S

Zomg!!!!!!11!!!!!11111one!!1

*happy dance*

Apparently he’s already been spotted out at Catalina’s at Rose Bay and a hot tip for the upcoming Mardis Gras.

His first concert is done and dusted and there weren’t complaints a-la Britney Spears when she toured here last year. So now  I can really get excited.

I’ve lost my long-distance glasses; I went to the optom and ordered a new pair today that’ll be ready in time for Friday night.

All I have to do now is wait:

It took me a LONG time to get into Ben Folds’ music. I really only picked up in the last year or so.

Rockin’ the Suburbs is my favourite Ben Folds album.

Ben is one of the few artists that Dan and I both like enough to see in concert together. So when we found out he was coming to the Sydney Opera House we were like giggling school girls. We bought tickets for the first two concerts.

I also love the Way To Normal fake leak album.

The first gig was on Monday night and we had brilliant seats on the side of the stage:

I spent the entire gig wide-eyed and open-mouthed at how amazingly talented he is.

Just, wow.

I have the opening of ‘Zak and Sara’ as my ringtone.

Last night our seats weren’t quite as good, but we enjoyed the front-on perspective:

The setlist was varied enough for us to be just as wide-eyed and open-jawed for the second night in a row.

He told stories about his new album, with lyrics written by Nick Hornby; he sang two songs, Picture Window and Levi Johnston’s Blues, a song about the father of Bristol Palin’s baby.

He was funny, intelligent, humble, thankful, thoughtful AND TOTALLY KICKASS.

We got home last night and bought tickets for his final Sydney show on Sunday night. We have front row in the choir section, meaning we’ll have some of the best seats for a gig featuring a man and a piano.

I. CAN’T. WAIT.

Last Thursday I popped along to Notes Live Newtown to see Rai Thistlethwayte (a.k.a Mr Thirsty Merc).

Manda very bravely came along with me and managed to put up with me while we had dinner at Italian Bowl on King Street then wandered back down Enmore Road to “Sydney’s newest live venue”. Nice venue, but reminds me a bit of a wedding function centre.

Needless to say, Rai is a very clever boy; he owned the piano and keyboards and his voice is just… wow. I found it easier to get into the funkier stuff, though – not surprising for a girl like me who loves rhythm guitar.

Best part about the venue is that it’s very intimate and Rai was amongst the crowd before and after the show. Noice!

This is what I spent most of the night looking at… Rai’s bum!

I don’t know what’s worse, deciding to download Don’t Cha by the Pussycat Dolls, or discovering I already had it.

BUT! Did you know the song was actually written by Sir Mix-a-Lot? Yeah, that guy.