it rained everyday that we camped. a little some days, a shitload others. everything i own is soaking wet, reeking of campfire and has been traipsed through mud. my rain jacket exploded on the second day and after duct-taping it back together i ended up wearing phil's while he got drenched. what a gentleman.
over the course of the festival days i noticed either how sheep-like the population is or how much of an aggressive city girl i am. beer line? queue to get to the stage? fuck that. i'll just walk right up to the front and muscle through. no one said anything. not a single person questioned me or got mad. it was almost infuriating to watch hundreds of people wait in a line that i had walked in and out of twice. i know they had all been drunk, high and soaking wet for three days but how can you be that catatonic? is it me? am i high-stress?
after four days of sharing and dancing and laughing and drinking and smiling through the bullshit... i'm a little intimidated to be back home. i was nervous crossing the streetcar tracks last night and my motorskills leave something to be desired. i keep dropping small objects and it's increasingly harder to type the words that my brain is thinking up. my body wants to move at a slower pace. it wants to start the day with weed and lay in the sun till it hurts. i want to live without a cell phone and cook everything i eat on a fire. i want to leave my belongings in a tent and know they'll be there when i get back. i'll swim instead of shower and drink beer with every meal! i'll talk to strangers about their organic soap and shit in porta-pottys! i don't care. no make-up, no hair straightener, no rules!
but... alas, i'm back to normal life now.
work, gym, photos, chinatown, groceries, laundry, houseclean, go, go, go!
if nothing else, hillside let me breathe and it's important to remember to do that sometimes.
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