june happens

Well, it came and went, I turned 25, and I'm still alive.I know June isn't quiiiite over yet, but Molly keeps hinting that I need to write a post about turning 25, so here it is. I HAD THE BEST FREAKING 25TH BIRTHDAY EVER.It started a little early..BassLady, Belt and I headed to Mulberry Mountain, Arkansas on the first for Wakarusa.that was a trip.in more ways than one. the three of us were scheduled to work parking from 3-10 that day, so after arriving we set up camp, caught a quick nap and downed a few beers, then headed out to park the fools who were on their way. Belt and I got sent over to the Riverside Camping section, where the box office was located. Everyone who attended Waka went through this gate to get in. Shit got real crazy, real fast. I tried to find a map so that you might understand what I'm laying down here, but there weren't any that showed where Riverside was in comparison to the main festival grounds. Anyway, I started out asking people if they had A.)VIP tickets, B.)Early Bird passes, or C.) an RV pass, which got them into the festival before midnight. After a few hours of doing this, my master parking potential was noticed by our horrible, terrible, no good supervisor, who must not be named. Kneegel. That's it. I got sent to the top of the hill, where people were coming down into Riverside. I spent my night with a little glowing orange stick, directing people down the mountain. Yeah, I was that kid. Traffic jams lead to cranky people, and bad directions lead to REALLY cranky people. For the record: "Turn left at the top of the hill, then an almost immediate right on to Hwy 23. Go about three miles, the festival is on the right side of the road, Westwoods camping is on your left. Look close, you might miss it." I'm not sure how many times I said that while I was working, but if I managed to remember it after being at Waka and participating in Waka-havior, it must have been quite a few. Working parking was dusty, hot, and fun. At least I enjoyed it. I got to see ALL kinds of people. Every kind of person under the sun. Big people, little people, hippies, ravers, homos, Hare Krishna, you name it. The diversity warmed my heart. The sun burned my skin.

After we got our work shifts done (we worked the next day from 8-3, too), it was finally time to have fun. BassLady and I caught one Ms. Grace Potter, and OHMYGOD. BassLady's face totally melted. She swears that when Grace Potter performs, there is nothing sexier happening on Earth. I agreed until later in the month (more on that in a bit).Then we caught a bit of Buckethead before going back to the camp to re-fuel on PBR and KD. I think there was some food involved too. After working both days, we were pretty bushed. We crashed out early the first night while listening to Split Lip Rayfield rock out in the Outpost tent, which was about 10 feet from our camp. Talk about being rocked to sleep.

that's a whole lot of sexy right there.

Day Two of the festival was pretty damn great. We saw Trombone Shorty. no words. After TS, we were introduced to the firestorm that is Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings. That little lady can dance like no other. She might give Ms. Turner a run for her money.For reals, yo. Sharon Jones led in to JJ Grey and Mofro, who are good if you like southern rock. BassLady and I took our pit stop after his show, before going to see Galactic in the Revival Tent. I have an entire series of photos titled "Galactic While Tipsy." That's about all there was to that. Our evening lullaby that night came courtesy of Skrillex.

Day Three of Waka was my 25th birthday. BassLady and I went and grabbed some breakfast in the main grounds, walked up and down Shakedown Street, and then went to find Belt because we had planned on going to the waterfall that day. Before I go any further, I must say that if you ever have a chance to go to Mulberry Mountain, you have to do the waterfall hike. It's totes worth it. The three of us set out to find the Trail Head and headed down the mountain. The hike is about a mile and a half, I think, and it seems like a piece of cake going down. After getting down the mtn., we stripped off our clothes and jumped off a cliff. What an awesome way to start 25. For me, it was like I left all the shit that came with 24 on the ledge of the cliff. Pure exhilaration. We climbed back up the waterfall, which wasn't as calming as I always imagined it would be. That shit is cold, and it hits you hard, and those rocks you're trying to climb are slippery as..well. that's not appropriate, my mother reads this.

it's like they spread ky jelly all over those rocks, but it's not water soluble.

We hung out down at the river for awhile, taking naps on giant water-cooled slabs of slate and people watching. Then. oh god then. we climbed back UP the mountain. I know I said that if you go, you have to do the trek, but here's a disclaimer. IF YOU HAVE HAD MONO WITHIN THE PAST MONTH & ARE STILL NOT 100%, THINK TWICE. after you've thought twice, climb the fucking mountain. Still worth it. I thought I was dying. BassLady maintains that needing to stop and rest twice is not dying, but sort of normal. I disagree. I'm going to make that mountain my bitch in a few months. just sayin.

i'm coming for you, waterfall hike.

Eventually we made it back to camp. rest, beer, food, water, beer, makeshift bath at the hydrants, porta potty time, whiskey, and then it was time for the most epic birthday concerts EVER. First up, Yo Mama's Big Fat Booty Band. yes, please. moar. then, Ozomatli. mmhmm, it keeps getting better. Mumford and Sons, with Grupo Fantasma across the way at Revival. Break for food and beer (and water.lots and lots of water ftw.), then to Ben Harper and Relentless7.Pan to BassLady running across the main venue screaming "THIS IS MY SOOOOONG!" love ben harper. I feel like we saw a show after that, but I know there was more beer and whiskey involved, so I don't really remember. we did hang out at camp quite a bit that night. i think.so many great things happened that day. thanks to BassLady, Belt, and TheOtherB (ha!) for such a wonderful damn day. It was exactly what I wanted/needed to start this year off right.

BassLady and I headed home early Sunday. I gave my breakfast cheese fries to a clown, we took a final trip down Shakedown Street, broke down camp and headed back to the Sunflower State. belt stuck around an extra day and caught a ride home with a friend. (didn't want you to think we'd just left her there.tempting, but not our style.) We saved one bigass turtle on the way home, and made it back to Emporia around 5 or 6 in the evening. Not too bad.

My favorite things about Waka this year: clothing modification. fat tire and blue moon in CANS. the sun. water. jumping off of a cliff. amazing music. watching people do it behind our tent. being filthy. diversity. the sunset over mulberry mountain. giant clouds of weed smoke. loving everyone around.

mulberry mountain sunset

BUT WAIT! that all happened in the first few days of June! There is more to talk about..like how I got to see George Clinton and Parliament Funkadelic in my hometown, which I NEVER, EVER, EVER thought would happen. They were pretty good. Bad venue, as we all know the Bi-Center is.

After PFunk, I was privileged enough to be the proud owner of two tickets to see brandi carlile and ray lemontagne at starlight theater in KC. the show was great. imo, brandi carlile needed to play for a couple more hours. i just freaking love her. And I think she is sexier than grace potter, though I must say that when grace runs across a stage in stilettos, that's pretty ridiculously hot. Redd accompanied me to the show that night, which was great. It was super fun catching up with her.

June was freaking faaaantastic. I haven't had that much fun in..oh, about two and a half years. I am truly sad to see it end. July is shaping up to be pretty great too. guess what, y'all? The Druid is coming! He'll be here on the 7th. Look for a possible co-writer on my adventures for next month. We're sure to get up to some sort of trouble.

my musings on destination weddings.

I know it's been ages since I posted on here, and I have LOTS of things to write about. I turned 25, went to Wakarusa, saw PFunk, Brandi Carlile, and Dirtfoot, and basically have had the most radical summer of my life, so far. Instead of writing about those things today, though, I got to thinking about weddings, which led to other thoughts, all of which are leading in to this rant. So many of my friends and childhood acquaintances are getting married, or have already. Most of them got married close to home, but a few chose a destination wedding. Which got me to thinking about the possibility of me, myself, getting married. First, I have to find the woman of my dreams. She hasn't come around yet, I don't think. So I've got time. Phew. Destination weddings are great. You get to go somewhere exotic and celebrate the beginning of your life with someone in a setting that you are likely to never forget. My sister and brother in law were married in Italy, and it was perfect for them. They went by themselves, and we got a few pictures of the ceremony, and even more pictures of the Ferrari factory. Signs of what was to come, eh? I digress.

 Back to my feelings on mawwiage. I envy those who have the ability to go and be married somewhere grand and unexpected. More than that though, I envy those who can go to their local courthouse, declare that they want to get married, sign a piece of paper, and then have their wedding in their hometown, surrounded by their family and friends.

I have no choice but to have a destination wedding. I CAN'T go down to the courthouse with my girlfriend, fill out the forms, and make her my wife. Some days, I get so damn mad because that's just not fair. It's not fucking fair. If I someday find the woman I want to spend my life with, we will have to jump through flaming hoops of death just to put our names on the same piece of paper that says we're married. We'll have to make arrangements to go to another state or country, taking away the ability to share our happiness with the microcosm of families and friends that weddings connect. Sure, we could have a party to celebrate our union at a later date, but what if that's not what we want? What if my future wife wants to get married in her parents' backyard surrounded by all of our friends?What if I want to invite all of my extended family and my two elderly grandmothers? What then? My options are slim to none. I will HAVE to be married in another state, and when my wife and I come home, our marriage WON'T EVEN BE RECOGNIZED by the state that I live in. We'll just be a couple of women living together. If we choose to adopt children, we may not both be able to legally be named parents of the child. If something happens to my wife or I, we could be denied the opportunity to be together in the hospital.

I'm not really in the mood to go into the gay marriage arguments and counter-arguments. They don't really matter, anyway. All that should matter is two people, regardless of gender, wanting to spend the rest of their lives together. Forget your God, and how he says it is wrong. That guy was all about the love, they've been lying to you with all that guilt and hate. Forget the idea that queers getting married will weaken the idea of "traditional" marriage. If the US divorce rate is any indicator, someone already beat us to it. Unless all of those divorces are caused by raging home-wrecking lesbian affairs. In which case, ladies, kudos to you, you sneaky homos.

I realize that this is rambling and slightly over the top. My apologies to you, reader. I am just so frustrated with the hetero normative privileges of the world. I am a person too. I love, and even though I will always put on my best face and celebrate with you, every wedding I attend makes me wonder if I will ever be able to share my own love in that way. Not because of the whole "no girlfriend" thing..but because I worry that our society will never accept my relationships as valid. No matter how much my mom loves my girlfriend, or how well I bond with her dad, there will ALWAYS be those people there to tell us that we're not a legitimate couple. Unfortunately, they seem to be the majority. Which totally sucks, by the way. Completely. I wish I could tell everyone of those people that the love they experience with their significant other is worthless. But you know, haters gonna hate, and lovers gonna love. And the hate is no way to promote positive change, which is kind of what I'm all about, in case you don't know me. Sometimes I just get a little worked up.

I feel better now. I'll write something happier and easier to read later.