Reggae on the River
stilt people
Originally uploaded by sad girl.
As you know, I went to Reggae on the River a few weekends ago. What you don't know is that I dinged some fucker's van as soon as I got there and endured some serious verbal abuse for it for about twenty minutes. Being welcomed to this festival in such a way after driving for 12 fucking hours nearly made me cry. On top of that, I couldn't find the boy I've been seeing whom I was to meet there, I didn't have a ticket, and I had no cash to buy one because the asshat I picked up on the way down was almost two hours late meeting me. Really it was because I rushed out of town for him and didn't make it to the bank in Grants Pass on time, but I prefer to transfer blame. It makes me feel better.
So I finally met up with my boy, whose name is August, and he was fucking stoned out of his silly mind and couldn't really be there for me. I was totally stressed the fuck out. That night, we slept in my car (ridiculously good sleep, for some reason), awoke at seven a.m., and drove to Eureka, CA to get to a bank. Got money, drove back, tried to get into the FOUR MILE LONG LINE of cars, but said "FUUUUUCK IT" and parked in a shuttle bus parking lot and shuttled our shit in. Our shit was heavy.
I'm sorry if this is boring. I'll cut to the chase. We finally found our friends and got all of our shit together, but when we went to get another load of stuff from my car, we learned that the parking lot was on fire and cars were burning down. I was all fucked up, but I couldn't find out for sure if my shit was okay until the next day. And it was. Ten feet and I would have been screwed. But I may actually have been sittin pretty since my insurance probably would have covered it all, and no one would have known that the side panel fell the fuck off in the stupid fender bender/scratched van accident.
Then I thought I lost my camera. I spent Saturday night wandering around (really fucked up, I might add) by myself, looking for my camera and talking to sympathetic folk. I woke up in the morning to find that August and I were sleeping on it. Woot.
Drove home. Drove to Canada. Fuck that mess. Fuck Canada. Apparently there's a new law there that states that folks with misdemeanors are no longer allowed into their country. Now isn't that a load of donkey mess?
The next round of pictures will be from the Pickathon.