Are We There Yet?

My Dad likes to say that most people have no idea what they are doing most of the time.  That they may seem like they do and that it may be intimidating but really everyone is in the same shit. Coming from a guy who by any barometer is a modern marvel and a successful human being in general this kind of gives me a twisted sense of hope. We are at that pivotal age when you have to make decisions.  You have to because you're 22 and you're an adult now and you can't go on living at your parent's house forever.  And now I'm going to ask the same hackneyed question that twenty-somethings have been asking for centuries. How do you know when your all growed up ? Graduating from college has been like going through puberty again.  Some people do it gracefully pas de bourree-ing around acne and weight-gain and beautiful older sisters while avoiding bad hair and braces with ninja skills.  One major difference, however, is that during puberty everyone wears their awk...

Saturday night was a mess .  And I wasn't drunk or angry or embarrassing or slutty.  I didn't vom in my hair or wake up naked with a burrito on my chest.  Those stories happen often and never get old but Saturday night was definitely unique and not really in a good way. wait. Here's the thing.  My beautifully gay older man companion SP consistently fills me with enlightened wisdom that I don't want to listen to because its easier to be childish and impulsive.  One thing he said was that "You should go into every argument assuming that at least 30% is you."   And I've thought about this after the fight (I use that term loosely because I was kind of just yelled at) I was in that night. A friend (or former friend) or mine FLIPPED out.  And I understand that he was hurt and that he was angry and that he or we had some unresolved issues.  Literally all I did was start talking to him.  For most of the night I could tell that something wa...

Day One Continued A and I arrive at an open field with staff members in neon T-shirts and hundreds of cars.  We pass a white tent where some of the staff...kids in neon sunglasses and polka-dot nail polish sit smoking cigarettes and talking to each other.  We've taken a back way, avoided the main highway and cut off hours of waiting in line.   No scalpers, although we ask a staff member about tickets and they say haven't seen any but that they'd 'totally scalp that shit if they needed to'.  The ticket trailer is on the right. We trudge down the field watching cars get checked for drugs, glass bottles and weapons.  Some local sheriffs pull cars over at random for inspection and we hope our drug carrying friends aren't chosen but are secretly glad we aren't in the car. Once we get to the ticket tent they tell us that the credit card machine is down and A is worried that I haven't taken out enough money for the festival if I have to pay the full price...

So...I know I promised more on Bonnaroo but I find myself gravitating toward another topic all together.  So, last night was an interesting night.  It ended with AN lecturing me about wasted talent and self-delusional bullshitting.  And while she has a point I find myself unwilling or unable to accept the accuracy of what she's said enough to do anything about it. AN isn't the first to ask, to say, to judge.  To criticize me for a lack of anxiety or for taking advantage of the fact that I have supportive parents.  But for some unknown reason her tirade meant a lot coming from someone who has no major stock in my success and no familial connection.  Her criticism was true, it was rough, and it tied into another theme this weekend on the topic of friendship. I've recently been asked by two good friends about their relationships with other good friends. Case 1:  A One of her good friends has a gf who he sucks around.  While I spent a lot of tim...

So I was the dirtiest I've ever been in my life last night.  And I don't mean 'down and dirty'  or 'dirty dog' or 'ODB'  but like the kind of dirty you get when away from your parents for the first time and don't have someone to remind you (or force you) to bath. To really explain this experience I have to break it into installments.  I don't have enough of an attention span to do this all in one and there were a lot of fun oddities this weekend and a lot of fodder for analysis and interpretation.  So bear with me...I'll get there. I was camping for 4 days.  That's three nights in a tent on a queen size aero-mattress with two other girls sleeping horizontally because that was the only way we kind of fit.  We were in Manchester TN, 45 minutes from Nashville,  for  Bonnaroo .  The concerts were A.M.A.Z.I.N.G. I'll get to those later.  To visualize Bonnaroo one only has to think of iconic woodstock images.  The atmosphere was ...

So I'm in Charlotte.  Well really I'm in the airport.  I have an hour layover en route to Nashville.  After 4 years and the threat that I would never again be invited,  I've ventured south of the Mason-Dixon to visit AN.  I haven't blogged in a while cause I'm busy and important or lazy and hungover...comme tu veux.   But today in a burst of blogging energy and because Charlotte's airport has free wireless (what what!?!) I've recommitted. I'm already noticing the normal cultural shocks and curiosities I experience when traveling down south.  This is not a case of ny elitism because its just different.  For example, the rate at which people smile is negatively proportional to the rate a which they walk and Starbucks isn't legally bound to show calorie content. Anyway I'm gonna be in Tennessee for a week. Because its cheaper to travel on tuesday.  But four of the days will be spent camping.  A fact AN conveniently forgot to mentio...