Rachel Bunting

it should not have taken me this long.

I just read Amanda Palmer’s blog from 10/29, which is an Open Letter to Robert Smith (of the Cure, for those of you unfamiliar).

Yes. In every way, yes.

I haven’t been a fangirl since – well, to be honest, probably in about 10 years. Of course I still went to concerts and got excited about them, but I haven’t been that touched by music in ages. And now, suddenly, I’m preparing to see Amanda next week, and I’m all nervous about it. The fangirl seems to be resurfacing.

And so I’m going to do something incredibly nerdy and youthful and selfish, something I’ve been loosely planning for a month but now I’m going to attempt to make it elaborate:

I’m going to make Amanda Palmer a copy of Imprimatur, a finished, gorgeously bound copy, and I’m going to write her a fan letter, a real fan letter, and I’m going to put them both in an envelope with a picture of myself and my email address, and I’m going to decorate the envelope, and I’m going to find a way to give it to her.

And I’m not going to apologize for being a fangirl, and I’m not going to feel self-conscious about it, and I’m not going to pretend that it’s not a big deal, because it is. It definitely is. She is smart and talented and amazing and beautiful, and watching Donna leave her concert last year, I saw the energy that was contagious and infecting, and I want that energy, and I can’t wait to have it.

And I’ve been listening to WKAP for the past few weeks, listening to “Leeds United” over and over again, listening to “Runs in the Family” over and over again, and I’m so. freaking. excited. And I don’t understand why I suddenly felt like I needed to grow up and be an adult and not let myself get excited about music in that totally immature fangirl way.

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