**I’m taking a break from breast cancer today because it’s Pinktober…and I kind of want to hide in a cave until it’s over.**

You guys, if my relationship with Hanson was playing out on Tinder, I’m pretty sure they left-swiped me a while ago (probably based on a bald, boobless profile pic and this post or possibly this post).  I know this based on three facts.

1.  Taylor Hanson read my blog and didn’t feel the immediate need to tell me how hilarious / smart / bald / wonderful I am and then propose for me to bear his sixth child — to which, I would have had to politely decline based on my current (lack of a) hormonal situation.

2.  The last time I saw them — the last time they came to St. Louis — in May, they only announced the show hours before, barely giving me time to make it.  In fact, I missed the first song, sneaky brothers.  It went something like this.

Bff texts me: “Dude, Hanson is here tonight?!? wtf?”


A quick check of Hanson’s twitter revealed that they were, indeed, opening for Ed Sheeran in AN HOUR AND A HALF.  Seven minutes and $193 later, I had sent my children off to Nana’s for the night with no pants on.  There was no time for pants.  As my husband did the drop-off, I tried to ready myself for the evening, but usually I have advance notice.  Usually I shave my legs and stuff.  You know, just in case.  No time for that either.

Anyway, we hustled to the venue (and by “hustle,” I mean I yelled at my husband to drive faster and to blow stop lights), parked illegally, and ran inside — where there was a problem with our tickets.  While waiting in the ticket-fixing line, I heard Hanson start playing so as politely as I could, I tapped on the lady’s shoulder in front of me.

“Hi, I was wondering if there is any way you’d let me go in front of you?  I’m only here to see the band that is playing right now…”

“Yeah, I’m just in this line to get my ticket fixed,” she inexplicably replied and turned back around.

Mmmkay.  Right.

So I missed the first song.  And I was pretty sure that Hanson was either testing my loyalty as a fan or trying to get through my hometown without me knowing.




But now I know that they must have seen the crazy in my eyes because they announced tour dates for this fall.  And #3: No St. Louis show.

That is why, on Wednesday, I am going to Chicago.  They’re going to have to do better than avoidance to get rid of me.  An order of protection would probably do it.  Which will probably happen the minute they realize that it was me who threw her bra — boobs and all — onstage.