Where the ever-after, is in the hands of fate.

I'm sitting in Richter's room on the window sill. I'm thinking of the past, present, future. And realizing it doesn't matter. Why you ask?

Because in the back of an ill lit theater on Saturday April 24th I met the person who has:

Changed my life.

Gave me hope, when there was none to be had

Blown my mind lyrically, musically, and theatrically.

Has been there, unknowingly, through it all

Made me...me. Down to the very core of my existence.

I met Billie Joe Armstrong.

Although I spent a wonderful weekend in New York City. And had a blast.

There is nothing on my mind right now...except for what exactly this man fully means to me.

Caution(police line, you better not cross): You Have Been Warned.

I know it was November of 97.

For some reason my little brain, listening to this angst filled album, pulled out Billies voice and carried it home that night. I asked Sarah to play Nimrod every time I was there for years.

Green Day wasn't always the for front of my brain, like it has been since I was 10, other bands played around in there.

But they remained a constant security blanket. Something that felt like home.

Seeing them live brought me to tears. Going to Broadway was all I wanted for my 18th birthday to see the musical. Meeting Billie Joe Armstrong was what Ive been dreaming about since I was 13. And It happened.

I'm probably misreading the signs here but that 10 seconds, made me realize what I have to do.

What I should be doing. And that's not bail on this whole journalism idea just because it seems hard.

Just because I may not make it right away.

Maybe this was Gods way of saying...stop talking shit on me you dumbass!

Do this. Meet him again, for real. But for now you need inspiration? Motivation?

I give you Billie Joe Armstrong. Run with it.
And I couldn't be happier if I tried.