hip to my heart.

"I've heard it said
That people come into our lives for a reason
Bringing something we must learn
And we are led
To those who help us most to grow
If we let them
And we help them in return"

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Once upon a time there was a boy named Jimmie. This boy liked to live his life out loud, for all the world to see. He had dreams of shining bright beyond the streets of Small Town, Kansas and he had a fierce passion for the Hollywood world he surrounded himself with. The pages of US Weekly would come alive each Friday night and the celebrities would whisper in his ears. Jimmie spent many hours and dollars, dragging friends with him, traveling the US for artists he loved. It was in those times when Jimmie felt the most alive and his soul would sparkle. Like glitter.

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Writing about myself in 3rd person and past tense just kind of creeped me out, so I had to stop. I felt like maybe I was a ghost-writer for myself, penning the Jimmie Taylor: Famous in a Small Town biography. Jinkies. There is a point to this blog, and I feel my weirdo intro was needed to set up my story. On Friday, July 16th, my boyfriend Josh and I (along with our friends Travis, Heather and Keri) went to the Adam Lambert/Allison Iraheta concert in Wichita, KS. The concert was general admission, which meant showing up hours early would pretty much guarantee a decent spot close to the stage. When we showed up at the venue, we joined the already-growing line. I pretty much pride myself in being a social butterfly and getting to know people, and the Adam Lambert fans were a fierce group for me to interact with. Right in front of us in line was a woman who had a purple glow about her. She was covered from head to toe in purple glitter w/ her purple outfit and self-created purple glitter shoes. (I was rocking my red wooden shoes, and I had a hunch we would get along.) I learned her name was Cathy and she was from Dallas. She had driven up just to see Adam Lambert. She had an extra ticket, because her son was unable to make the trip. I immediately got my picture with her, and we became Facebook friends. As the line was moving inside, the guys were pulled into a different line, and I didn't think we would see her inside. I was wrong. Not even ten minutes after we were in, Cathy appeared to us in what I swear was a glitter cloud. She was with us through the entire show, and when I wasn't watching the stage (or trying to fight off a Mean Girl, but that's another story) I loved watching Cathy watch Adam. Not in a creeper way, either. At midnight, Cathy would be turning 51 years old. I looked at her and I hoped I saw a little of me when I am her age. I wouldn't give a second thought right now, at the age of 35, to traveling solo to see the show of someone I love. I can only hope and pray I'm lucky enough to be doing that 16 years down the line. Cathy inspired me on a level I can't even explain. She was living her life out loud, and I feel blessed that for a night I was a part of it. I enjoyed Allison & Adam that night, but I came away from that concert with a feeling that I had a brief peek into my future. And I liked what I saw.