I have absolutely no problem admitting it: I’m a Directioner. I love One Direction so much.
So much, in fact, that I have seen them twice in concert, and the second time was not easy to arrange.
I’ve mentioned our friendship briefly on this blog; my best friend and I share so much in common that people mistake us for each other frequently, even though we look absolutely nothing alike. Our shared adoration of One Direction is one of those shared qualities. We saw them in Atlanta together for the first time in October 2014, and then anxiously awaited the next tour announcement.
Much to our dismay, the 2015 tour was not coming to Atlanta. Nowhere near Atlanta, actually. Needless to say, we panicked.
And then I had an epiphany, called my friend that lives in Boston, arranged to couch surf at her place for the concert weekend, bought tickets for the Boston tour stop, and booked a flight.
We made these plans in less than two hours after realizing the band was not stopping in the Southeast. It’s clear that at that moment in our lives we didn’t have a whole lot going on, giving us plenty of room in our schedules to live and breathe One Direction.
So in September of 2015, my best friend and I boarded a flight to Boston. Neither of us had ever flown alone before, neither of us had been to Boston before, and neither of us knew what we were doing. And it was so much fun.
In our desperation to get to Boston, we didn’t realize that my friend and her roommates wouldn’t even be home; they were all bridesmaids in a wedding that weekend. So we arrived in Boston alone after dark with no one to help us navigate the train or tell us how to get to Jamaica Plain (I didn’t even know that was a place).
Somehow, miraculously, we made it to Jamaica Plain on our first try at riding the train and we were able to find my friend’s apartment and the key she had carefully hidden for us. Then, we crashed in a home that we had never been to, in a neighborhood we were not familiar with, and navigated our way to the concert on Saturday. It was weird, it was stressful at times, and it was hilarious.
Mostly, it was all worth it to see One Direction live again. We didn’t know at that time that it would be the last time we would have a chance to see them, at least with any certainty. And at this concert, we were finally legal and got to buy drinks during the show. Now that was certainly an improvement for coping with the screeching pre-teens.
My friend, who had just gotten home from the wedding, had to come rescue us from Gilette Stadium, as there were no cabs coming near it after the show. She was an angel human; she had been tending to bridesmaid duties for two days, had just changed out of her dress, and then got the panicked call from me asking her for help. She picked us up, we got four hours of sleep, and the next day she walked us all around downtown Boston to show us the sights before she took us back to the airport. It was a whirlwind, but it was the most fun I’ve ever had in the midst of chaos.
Takeaway: I’ve never felt so much like an adult and simultaneously like a child than I did that weekend in Boston. We navigated planes, trains, cabs, city streets, and unfamiliar neighborhoods, rewarding ourselves with Old Fashioneds. We also screamed like little girls for a boy band and had to call someone to come pick us up after said boy band concert. I never took it too seriously, allowing myself to just laugh and know that sometimes part of being an adult is embracing those rare childlike moments when they fall in your lap. And to paraphrase my beloved One Direction, that’s what made it beautiful.