Last Christmas I bought my Nan tickets to see
Celtic Thunder live in concert because I’m an awesome grand-daughter and I had to give her something better than the Celtic Thunder DVD I’d given her the Christmas before which she’d promptly become obsessed with (I suspect ‘fandom’ may be a thing that could run in our family). I’d said I would go with her and do the good grand-daughterly thing, but the concert was mooooonths away and I was secure in the fact I didn’t have to worry about it for ages. Last weekend the moment of truth was upon me. I was going to be going to a Celtic Thunder concert. I was going to be surrounded by the sort of people who liked Celtic Thunder. I’d seen one of their DVDs, I’d seen the crazy look in the eyes of their fans. I didn’t really know if I was emotionally ready to deal with something like that.
Head below the cut to read about my night of horror and/or lulz.
