I’m having trouble focusing on my Anthropology essay when I have the knowledge that someone as beautiful as Adrien Brody exists, and is in fact breathing right now. On that note, I’m watching The Brothers Bloom while transposing some dynamics into my piano book, and am finding it harder and harder to think about doing anything academic.
I’ll have to get over myself within the next 40 minutes though, because it all ends on Monday.
Here’s to Saturday Afternoon.
I’m having a hard time digesting the fact that I actually saw Bon Iver, and won’t be able to see him for at least another year, if he keeps touring that is. Justin Vernon, you are not only slowly stealing my heart, but a portion of my paycheck as well.
*Rabbit Rabbit*
Happy June, you beautiful people. I hope preparation for finals is going well with each and every one of you. The album The Suburbs by Arcade Fire has been my lifeline during this hellacious period. What’s’ keeping you alive right now?
That’s beside the point though. My friends, the end is near. May your summer months be full of ease, vibrancy, and splendor. I know mine will be :)
So I really need to get all of this out of my system before I even attempt doing anything Finals-related.
This weekend was the Sasquatch Music Festival over at the Gorge amphitheater in Eastern Washington. (By the way, I think I prefer Eastern Washington to Western.) It’s not that I am particularly tired of the damp greenery, but getting out into the desert for a few days was more refreshing than I can adequately express. There is something so free about lying beneath a big, blue sky, with the heat and dust absolutely encompassing you, where you cannot escape the elements. I just think I needed a break from the city.
The shuttle over to the Gorge was delayed 3 hours by traffic. The drive over was beautiful though, and I highly recommend to everyone that if you ever want a nice drive, where you can roll your windows down and sing your heart out to your favorite songs, I-90 East is your golden ticket. Beside that, I sat next to a really nice guy, Kenny J from Dallas, a 23-year-old Biomedical engineer who asked a lot of nice questions and holds an affinity for Tenacious D. (This I understand.) By the time our bus reached the frontage road leading into the Gorge, we were already 2.5 hours behind schedule, and the traffic wasn’t moving. (I think this festival hosted close to 75,000 campers.) Neither of us wanted to miss the bands performing that night, so we asked the bus driver to open the bottom compartments of the bus so we could get our stuff.
With packs full of food, alcohol, tents and tarps, we hoofed it down that two lane highway for 2 miles in the golden afternoon light. On the way there, we saw people just hanging out in their cars, blasting their music, drunk and barefoot already. (Hey, traffic was not moving.) We got numerous shout outs and high fives; it was apparent, even then, what kind of people attend Sasquatch. Friendly people…open, happy people.
We finally reached the campgrounds, and said our goodbyes. Going our separate ways, I scoped out a nice patch of grass uninhabited by others and surrounded by few other tents. In the fading light, I threw up my tent, and literally tossed everything inside it, scared I was going to miss Starfucker and Explosions In The Sky. Once my bivouac was settled, I made myself a little more presentable in the circumstance that I would get to meet Munaf Rayani again. With a green dress and freshly brushed teeth, I booked it up the path that led to the amphitheater. I would have let the fact that I was by myself get the best of me, but that anxiety was being staved off by my pure, unfiltered relief of finally getting here. (This event has taken me weeks of planning to pull off, and it felt amazing to just finally get there.)
This might get long if I keep going at this rate, so I’ll give you all the truncated version of the evening that ensued. I wrestled my way to the very front of the stage of Explosions, and stood in a euphoric shock as I watched them set up and joke with each other. Jesus. I love them. Munaf was very focused on tuning his guitar and setting up amps. He looked really nice in his jeans and black jacket. (Fuck guys, the man is wearing the most mundane clothing possible and I still find him completely sensational.) Munaf gave the intro, and they dove headfirst into an utterly passionate, hour long set of some of my favorite songs. I’m fairly certain I caught Munaf’s eye a few times (I was kind of staring him down, so it was hard not to notice me,) but for the most part, he was devoted to his music, as he should be. He made a few mistakes, but I adore him in his flaw, so it only made the show more meaningful for me.
The second they finished, I tore through the crowd to the bouncers, and begged begged begged to be let in just to say hello. After about one minute straight of pleading, they nodded, and told me “We didn’t see you come in.” I hugged them both, and ran in. The band was packing up everything, so I stayed out of their way for about 15 minutes until I saw them dissipate in various directions. Munaf sat down with the band manager’s wife, Jessica (I MET HER) to have a smoke. Shifting awkwardly, not knowing the first thing to do when you’re backstage at a concert, I stood still until something inside of me erupted, saying, “Morgan, what the fuck are you doing? HE’S RIGHT THERE. GO.” So I did. He watched me walk up to him with this really…I don’t know, this knowing smile on his face… he probably recognized me as that girl from the front. He shook my hand, and when I told him we’d met already, he didn’t let go, and wouldn’t until I told him when we last met, and also until I forgave him for not remembering. We talked, laughed, teased, and touched arms and hands. He was standing inches from my face, and gave me a really nice hug after. He ended our conversation by saying, “I’m sure we’ll meet again.”
5 minutes later I was on the phone with Samantha, crying. If you are reading this, I’ll have you know, this man will be my husband. I am so shocked, and so thankful that I pulled this off not only once, but twice. I felt so completely fortunate, and so completely satisfied, I could have left the festival right then and there in happiness (I’m glad I didn’t though.)
To continue, my neighbors were all really cool Canadians who shared their alcohol with me; I had bloody mary’s for breakfast every day. We would spend all morning getting buzzed, laughing with one another, spend all day listening to music, and then all night coming down slow and easy, going to bed at reasonable hours. I really hope I keep in contact with them, it feels like we all kind of adopted each other in the love fest that was Sasquatch. We broke a lot of bread and drank a lot of wine, the 9 of us. I spent the last night of Sasquatch with the boy in the fedora, listening to dub step, holding hands, and just talking. He took off in the morning, and it was okay. I met a lot of beautiful people here, and I truly felt I left a little bit of my heart in those campgrounds.
I tried to get an autograph of Beirut for Dakota (because I know you love them Koko,) but the old bouncer “charm” had worn off by the third day. By the way, BON IVER and FEIST WERE SO SICK I COULD HAVE DIED.
I saw the sun go down in the desert, one of my favorite things. To sum it all up, I had an absolutely incredible 4 days, met some fantastic people, and had a beautiful time. I will be returning next year with certainty, and hope that I can bring others with me to share the experience with.
For now, I have papers to tend to, and then boxes to pack. I can’t believe it’s almost over. I mean, this is really still the beginning, but it’s just going by so fast.
So wish me luck…wish us all luck on our exams, our priorities, and our lives (oh and our prospective Pakistani husbands…or at least mine, that would be nice too.)
Sorry for the length, but if you’re following me, well, then you already know how I operate. Thanks for reading guys. Good luck with everything this week. Kick some ass.
Love Morgan.
12 hours, gentlemen. 12 hours.
These guys led me through my late adolescence, right into early adulthood. They made longs nights of studying and lengthy drives not only tolerable, but completely enjoyable. I appreciate them individually for different reasons, and cannot wait to see them perform again not only tonight, but many nights after.
And Mr. second to the left? I hope you’re ready, because I’m stopping at nothing.
No homework was done tonight.
But much laughing was.
dnmo:
My heart is going to stop from all this excitement.
with longing.
I have climbed high on this thin rope, but the fall is steeper than I’d care to acknowledge.
ps) I officially declared my Major today. I’m a Film Studies major with a Spanish minor (probably soon to be a Film/Spanish Double Major, but we’ll see.) I thought I would feel more relieved than I do, and I wonder why I’m not freaking out. Perhaps this is right.
Happy Birthday, you dashing young man.
I love my job. And my boss. I will never forget how lucky I was to receive the position I have now.
18 days until I move out. I’ll miss the lush greenery of this city, and yes, even the rain. Last night during Mayer Hawthorne’s last song, I took a step back, and just took a moment to reflect on this past year. I was standing in a mirth of singing and clapping, bathed in the warm air of the city night. I’ve had so many adventures in my 9 months here, adventures that I hadn’t suspected were waiting for me when I first arrived. So in early reflection, I will look forward to my sophomore year with openness and excitement, for surely many more adventures await.
