Warpin' the World, One Tour at a Time

WARNING: THIS POST IS EXTREMELY LONG AND MAY CAUSE IMPATIENCE, BLOOD CLOTS, CRINGING, PREGNANCY, OR BRAIN FAILURE. NEVER READ TIA'S BLOG WITHOUT FULL REALIZATION OF THE TIME WASTED THAT YOU COULD BE USING TO SAVE WHALES AND SOYBEANS.

5:41 PM Sunday, August 10, 2008

Yesterday was great. 50 bands, gorgeous canyon view, (12:39 AM Tuesday, August 12, 2008) kindly mosh girls, vineyard streaking…the list goes on and on. Sooooo awesome.

Suffice it to say, Saturday we went to see Warped Tour at The Gorge. Which is Gorgeous. Interestingly enough, I was actually very reluctant to go. All week I’d been hemming and hahing, pretty sure it’d be a total bust like every other concert I’ve been to. Not to mention I knew the massive amounts of partying that would be going on at such an event – a fact made true by all the pot I smelled that day. Smelly, skunky pot.

But back to the story! The day started out bueno with a home-cooked breakfast and about 20 trips between B’s and my house. It got even better when we got lost and stopped by a port-o-potty for B, and I brilliantly suggested we run unencumbered by worldly fetters down the scenic grapevines. Aka, we streaked. It was brilliant, it was exhilarating, and it was just plain embarrassing when I was finally free of those cotton panties. Not to mention slightly uncomfortable with those small bugs trapped between my bosom and bra. Note: when stripping self of clothes, be sure to throw them above ant-infested areas. Still, very exhilarating.

Having officially decided the trip was then worth it even if The Gorge was wiped out by alien invaders before we got to see Ludo...we pressed on. A short drive and a couple of confused directions later (as well as a discovery of said ant’s departing gift) we were back on track.

This is where Tia starts whining, because Tia doesn’t really feel like being around swearing, smoking, drinking, half-naked people all day. And our arrival at the entrance proved I would have to deal with just that. An hour and a half of miserable grossness ensued, the highlight of which was a girl throwing up on the people behind me, and soon I was almost throwing my ticket at whoever would take it. What stopped me, and I’m actually pretty serious, was that I didn’t have my own car to drive back and would have left NiNi and B stranded if I’d stolen his.

Happily (and kind of sadly), we got in, I got over the drugs, swearing, and nakedness, and Warped Tour turned out to be ze bomb! It was like a giant carnival, but with music everywhere, as if someone’s iPod had become a living creature and we all wandered around the songs we wanted. Ludo was fantastic, which cemented my love for them, and so was the crazy band of smiling Japanese girls after them. My favorite image of that day has to be seeing a red-dyed Mohawk-sporting punk moshing to these cute little Asian girls playing Caribbean music on their trumpets and trombones. So classy. So Warped Tour.

We all ran amok and gained some sense of stability by 4 when all of us (B, Me, Hilde, Niners, Ross and Vince) actually met up by the giant schedule board and decided what bands we would see. Five minutes of waiting for Mandy, whom we hadn’t seen all day, and we left. It may sound harsh, but none of us really expected her to be there (though ironically she texted me at 4:10 wondering where we were). We all went to see Rising Against, which Vince wanted to see, and I broke Hilde and NiNi in to their first real mosh pit. Which in turn broke both Hilde’s and Vince’s flip-flops and my new glasses. It just goes to show that this horror (which really was horrible) couldn’t even ruin my day, it was that good.

It did however dampen my spirits enough to skip Katy Perry (she was bad apparently, oh well!) and stake out our spot with Branden. And by stake out I mean lay in the sun cuddling our bags as theft prevention. This goodness led to wonderfulness as NiNi and Hilde both began to massage my calf and head (respectively) and I seriously felt the best part of the day just lying there surrounded by B’s snores, Hilde’s hands, NiNi’s nails, Vince’s camera snapping, and Ross’s stoic silence. C’est bliss.

This is when the cuddling broke out and our calm serenity gave way to mad puppy piling. I say ‘puppy’ because we were more like that than any other creature, poking and prodding each other into place until we’re all comfortable. Until about 5 minutes later and we all have to do it again. I swear, it’s impressive how we manage to get into this tangled mass of limbs and actually stay comfortable. At one point, Hilde, NiNi, Vince, and I actually had our heads hooked together like Lincoln Logs. No joke – we’ve got a picture to prove it.

This pretty much made up the pattern for the rest of the night – cuddle, mosh, cuddle, mosh. Quite possibly the strangest combination ever, but, hey, it worked. By the time we’d left the venue, Branden’s face matched his shirt (he wore pink as a signal to every gay man there), Hilde was wearing my tennies as I dazed along in socks, and everyone had everyone else’s crap. It was fabulous. We all just kept repeating “Today was great. Today was awesome. Today was really great!” and so on. Not even their tent falling over could break the spell (though Vince did not like the choco muffin theivage – muffin whore *grin*). ‘Course, NiNi, B, and I just went home, so a wet, sagging tent wasn’t exactly stopping us from a good night’s sleep!

Suffice it to say, it rocked. We acted crazy, but not too much, we made some awesome memories (I will always love Hilde’s face when that guy whacked her chest with a stamp that said, “STREAKER” *laughs uncontrollably*), and we made a good new friend. I wish I could say we made two, but I’m afraid Ross failed in every way Vince succeeded. *sigh* Oh well, I don’t blame him. We’re not your average group. And I don’t mind that some people think our group of friends is a cult. Streaking with fellow cult members is fun *grin*.