Things I Learned While in Beyonce's Presence

This weekend I was in the same room as Beyoncé.

BEYONCÉ, guys.

As in BEYONCÉ KNOWLES CARTER: the woman I reference in basically all of my blog posts and who gets me psyched to be a lady pretty much every single day.

Via

Daniel and I were there for the Mrs. Carter World Tour which took place right in our backyard at the Barclays Center in Brooklyn, home of the Nets (Broooooooooklyyyyyyyyn).

This concert was amazing, the best of my life, but let me tell you -- it was an emotional roller coaster.

I'll walk you through it.

We got to the Barclays Center impressively early...

This is how early we were...

But we didn't care. We were still pumped.

THIS pumped (Sorry I look like the Terminator in this picture).

Finally the place was abuzz.

And it was time for Bey's opening act, a man by the name of Luke James. He gave out a lot of roses to the ladies and enjoyed standing in front of fans while wearing an unbuttoned priest's shirt. He was truly the essence of the 90s, and I miss him already.

This is a terrible picture of Luke James singing to a rose. 

At the end of his performance, he took about three minutes to sing the words, "I want to thank God. I want to thank Beyonce. My name - my name - my naaaaaaaaame is Luuuuuuuke Jaaaaaaaames." I will never forget this man as long as I live.

Then we waited again.

And then we waited a little longer.

And a little longer still.

And just when we thought this whole thing might be an elaborate prank, the lights went down, and....

Uuuuh actually, let's use a professional's picture. 

BEY BEY BEY BEY BEY! (Via)

She opened with Run the World (Girls), and we all collectively freaked the geek out. I usually don't go crazy at concerts. I rarely even clap (yeah, I'm that jerk), but all of a sudden I was standing and woo-ing and singing and it felt positively nuts. Even though I had tickets in hand which clearly stated "Mrs. Carter," I don't think I had truly processed the fact that she was actually going to the be there in the flesh.

She moved seamlessly to "End of Time," and the collective psychitude in the room was off the charts. 

Then she started talking to us, requesting that we call her Mrs. Carter. Here's a little taste.

Then we moved into a couple of songs with which I was unfamiliar, and it gave me a moment to reflect on what was happening. I looked around at everyone, especially those near the stage -- people who were practically clawing each other's eyes out to be in Beyonce's hair-flipping radius -- and it suddenly felt really odd. Someone in our section (keep in mind how far away we were) started bowing and I definitely saw a few people crying. It was a bit like, okay guys...come on. This is idolatrous and bizarre.

It was in this pensive moment that I experienced an emotion that I did not expect: jealousy. What?! Yes.

It was unfounded and just absolutely silly, but suddenly I just thought, sweet Lord, is she ACTUALLY perfect? Intellectually, I knew that it could not possibly be true, but with the way her legs went for miles and her voice exploded with power and her dance moves were just SICK, it was hard to imagine a moment in life where Beyonce could say or do the wrong thing.

But then she came out in this outfit.

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And I realized something profound: Beyonce is not perfect. She just doesn't give a shit.

Because people, that hat and that cape are just madness to me. There are ears on that hat! It's also strangely puffy as though it's insulated with bubble wrap. It's this enormous puzzle of a fashion statement, and I think we can all objectively agree (I know that taste is always subjective...but come on...ears) that on so many levels it just does not work.

It was almost like she was challenging us. It was as though, in wearing that hat, she was saying, "I can wear something this ridiculous, and I will still be Beyonce." And you know what? Terrible hat or not, she was still Beyonce.

And by the way, Beyonce went on to wear several amazing outfits.

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My personal fave (Via)

But it is that unbelievably bad baseball cap with the tiny, furry ears that I will forever remember.

While I have no desire to bow to Beyonce and I'm fine if I don't get a mouth full of her hair, I have such respect for the way that she just OWNS everything she does. How much richer would life be if we really lived life a little more like Beyonce? We'd stop apologizing for the dumb things we think, say, and do and we'd fearlessly wear animal ears on our heads. Our lives would look less like this:

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And more like THIS:

Via

Alright, enough preaching.

The rest of the concert was just an insane JOY. A total blast, really. My night had two highlights. One was when she unexpectedly began singing Survivor, and everyone erupted. It was so amazing.

The other was, obviously, her live rendition of Love on Top. Here's the Vine:

She seriously crushed it.

The concert seemed to end far too early, but damn, what a show.

glitter light show madness!!!

Thanks, Beyonce, for the life lessons and for always owning everything you do.

I like to think that she's saying, "Don't mention it, girl." (Via)