Chasing Starkid

Ah. The sweet smell of disappointment.

On the morning of October 8th, I woke up, bound and determined to meet Starkid. My plan was this: get up, eat (since I probably wouldn’t get another chance for a while), get dressed, put on make-up/straighten my hair if I so desired (this dependent on the whole waking up thing), and go to class. After class, I’d book it to my apartment, maybe apply more make-up, then take the first bus to the Walgreen Drama Center. Starkid was holding a panel from 2-3, and I had to be there. I even emailed my professor ahead of time; I’d be missing class for this; this is important, duh.

My plan went flawlessly. I wanted to leave my apartment around 1:30, and that I did, right on the nose. On the bus to North, I pulled up the event on my phone to double check the location.

12:30-1:30, the website proclaimed. I could almost read the Ha! You fool! underneath it.

Whether it was a change in time or I had read it wrong (thought my mind rebels against this idea; I couldn’t be wrong, how could I?), as I walked towards the Walgreen Drama Center I saw Starkid shimmer before me, going up into smoke before my very eyes.

I wondered to myself if this was fate putting pieces together. Hearing no word back after getting a polite “We’ll see” about an interview, I’d been stressing, almost panicking about when and where I needed to be to get a golden 30 minutes to conduct my interview. Maybe this would be serendipity, and Darren Criss would walk out, laughing at something incredibly funny, then stop, pointing me out.

“You’re that girl, right? Who wants to interview Starkid, yeah?”

I’d bat my eyes coquettishly.

“What gave me away?” I wouldn’t be hyperventilating; cool as a cucumber.

“I just knew. Hey, come to rehearsal with us – we’ll be done in 30. Then we can chat.” (I’m not sure what my fascination with 30 is; just a solid number I guess).

A younger me would have been mad crying screaming – whatever made me feel slightly vindicated for being stupid and missing this. But senior year Jeannie decided to just sit and write. So I did.

I continued my day waiting for the email that never came. I think some small part of me is still waiting, like I’ll get the email tomorrow or Saturday and I’ll leave the football game to interview Starkid.

But finally, the time came – showtime. I had my ticket in hand, and me and my friend dressed to the nines. I felt good. Maybe not amazing – I didn’t get that interview, but good.

I won’t spoil the concert (review forthcoming by yours truly), but I had a blast – we went back to Hogwarts, but more importantly I went back to Starkid. Nostalgia had a big part of it, but in reality my memory had failed me – I had forgotten how fun Starkid was. The concert ended, and my friends begged me to try and get an interview somehow, someway with the Theatre 100 press pass I had.

Tyler Brunsman, bless his heart, was in the reception room talking to his parents. I waited a good distance away; I wanted to talk to him but I wasn’t about to be so pushy that I interrupt.

After he finished, I stopped him, introduced myself. I was slightly shaking – I’d only ever seen him on screens and now here he was in front of me. Maybe he noticed, but hopefully he didn’t.

The conversation? Well….

Me: *oh gosh oh gosh be cool* How was it to come back to Michigan? *good job Jeannie you got this*

Tyler: It was, like, out of this world…everywhere you walk on campus is, there’s so many memories associated with this campus, so coming back here, it’s really been a magical couple of days. It was like second nature, just being back home.

hoMe. I know the feeling. We kept talking, I asked about his favorite memories, and got an amazing anecdote involving ranch, Pizza House, and a late night mix up (moral of the story – always buy Pizza House. Always.).

For a moment, I slipped back into my old days – I used to be big in the Starkid fandom, talking to girls thousands of miles away from me who bonded over this silly, fantastic group of people. Embarrassingly, I told Tyler that he responded to a Facebook post of mine one time, and little high-school Jeannie died. High School Jeannie died again, shaking hands with Tyler, hearing him say he would stop and talk to me when I thought the closest I’d get to Starkid was the view from Row K in the Power Center.

Even though it was embarrassing, even though it was super unprofessional, in that moment, it was okay. Everything was okay. I left the show, two friends beside me, one freaking out over taking a picture with Eric Kahn Gale, the other begging to stalk Darren Criss (sorry Darren – I tried to curb them as much as possible).

All that mattered right then was I was fresh off the high of an amazing concert, and I had my friends beside me. And I’m sure, walking off the Power Center stage tonight, Starkid felt the exact same way.