Campfyre Stories

So we left the festival with relief rather than reluctance, though Spawn was upset to not get the email addresses of his friends.  We took main roads and avoided the detours and debris in the road.

We were about starving, having not been able to get lunch before everything went to chaos, so we stopped, grubby and gross, at Denny’s and had a nice meal.  Went home and enjoyed the things we usually take for granted.  Pooping in a toilet that flushes, showering for as long as we wanted/needed, not having to worry about the stability of our shelter…  Then we each passed out for a few hours.

I found out on Wednesday that the storm we experienced had actually been a tornado that didn’t touch down.  From the official post:

This was a mini tornado that hit us Sunday, it never touched down. We had been tracking this storm, labeled F5 on NEXRAD radar on my laptop in the Communications trailer. Was moderately severe, very compact and moving rapidly. It was past us & thought we were OK. Storm track animation showed it was moving away.

Than there was a sudden rotation and it came back with 70 MPH winds, 3 inches of rain and up to golf ball size hail. There was no time for a warning like the ones passed on earlier, it happened so fast.

We could not believe the same storm that had passed on the radar was now in front of us again, was on us before we could even get on the radio. I got one call in to mainstage and one to security base. Hail started WHILE I was making these calls on my cell, radio communication was totally OUT.

Tornado formation is very unpredictable. We just did not think anything like that was possible, indeed 4 of us looking right at the radar were puzzled at what we were looking at for several precious seconds.

So that’s what we weathered, none of us knowing it.

I emailed a couple of friends who were still there during the storm tornado and they told me their stories.  It’s interesting to me, I’ve heard many stories across the internet, but, so far, few from anyone who was in the same location as I was.  I’d really like to hear that story from another perspective.

But I have heard some very frightening things, as well as a lot of really heartening things.

So Spawn and I got home and safe and slowly moved back to reality.  I took Monday off of work and kept the car for a few extra days, so we went out, saw a movie, did some shopping and paid someone else to do the nasty festival laundry.

And that, my dears, ends my saga of Falcon Ridge 2008.  Happy 20th anniversary!  It was certainly a weekend to remember, on so many levels.

Oh, Sunday…  how can I even begin to tell your story?

I slept LATE and then slowly broke down the camp.  I couldn’t find Spawn right away and was told that he had gone to breakfast MUCH earlier, but I wanted to find him so he could pack all his gear and I could get the car offsite, as severe rain was expected and I wanted to be able to leave, ever.

I did find Spawn and he s-l-o-w-l-y packed up his gear and tent and all and I parked the car in Day Parking.  5 minutes after I parked, the sky opened right up.  I felt like, both coming and going, I had really good timing.  Getting in in time and getting out in time, both.

Spawn had a shift to work at 2, which meant that he was going to miss the ONE BAND I wanted him to see, so I decided to head down to the Merch Tent and just buy a CD for him to listen to.  I wasn’t scheduled to work that day (because of Martin Sexton the night before), but had to convince my crew that I was really there as a customer.

Immediately, though, they needed me to organize or answer questions or run information or cover someone for a few minutes, so, right away, I was put to work despite my "I’m here as a customer" protests.  As I was trying to determine which CD to buy, the bug was put in my ear that we were expecting to lose power and, if that happened, we would lose the security cameras, so had to watch the exits.

And then came the maelstrom.

This is my story:

We were FLOODED with people, and we recruited the tallest people we could find to get the last of the tarps up around the perimeter.  As a result, as the storm went on, I had no idea what was going on outside, only what was happening in OUR tent.  The winds were so high that the tent poles started to come out and people ran to the sidelines to hold the tent up so it wouldn’t collapse.  Other people were standing on tables using their umbrellas or bags to push against the roof and get the water off.

Many people (our crew included) were freaking out about the power being on.  Given the credit card machines, cash registers, security camera and all peripherals and the electricity, we were EXTREMELY live.  I immediately set to organizing.  My crew chief was in the middle of trying to make a deposit when the storm hit, so she was holding several thousands of dollars in cash, which she kept putting down and then freaking out and picking up again.  The other crew chief in the tent had a radio, which I told her to use to tell the Site Crew we were coming down and to CUT OUR POWER.  Site Crew radioed back that they couldn’t get to our tent right away because they needed to deal with the Family Tent and Activities for Kids.  Well, YEAH, of course they should do that, but we couldn’t see what was happening outside.  They cut all the festival power shortly after that.  Never before have I been in a situation where people cheered when the power went OUT, but we were all pretty happy about it in that moment.

All of a sudden, we started to feel a river running through the tent and (though I didn’t know why at the time) it was cold.  The river turned into a pond and the water level rose to about 6" in the tent.  Everyone in our area stayed calm.  There were no small children and everyone kept their head.  At some point, someone started singing "Michael, Row the Boat Ashore", which relieved some tension, but apparently the only verse that anyone knew was the first one…  so we sang that a couple of times.

Someone from Site Crew came in and explained to us that they were evacuating the festival.  "The safest place for you to be is in your car, not moving."  I saw Spawn at the other side of the tent and immediately, shifted mental gears into "I am a mother.  I have to take care of my kid."  I took off after him, knowing that if I didn’t catch him then, I might not find him…  and he didn’t know where the car was.

I found him in the rain in bare feet, wearing shorts and a t-shirt, soaked through, and wrapped in a wet towel.  I took him to the car, but he stopped on the way to tell my brother and mom that my niece was safe, where she was and who she was with.  Once in the car, I gave him a dry towel, turned the car on and jacked up the heat.  Spawn did not get hypothermia.  Many other people did.  However, there were no major injuries.

We sat out the storm, then sat out the traffic.  Despite not having a chance to say our goodbyes (Spawn had to call his festival romance to say goodbye, but I believe they’ll see each other again), we headed out as soon as the traffic was clear enough for us to go.  What an ending!

Spawn’s story:

Spawn and his friend (both Teen Crew) were in the Volunteer tent when it (the tent) started to come down and they evacuated. The two of them wound up with my niece (4 years old), who had run up to them the moment she saw them.  My brother (Chaos) was valiantly trying to keep the tent  from falling with a large number of other people.

They hazarded the hail and wind and rain and found a group of people without a car. They formed a "Penguin Huddle" around  my niece to keep her safe and warm while the women explained the scientific reasons that hail forms. It worked amazingly well to keep the teens calm and together and, hey, they learned something interesting!

Spawn’s friend,  carrying my niece, fell in the mud and started to lose it a little (and no wonder in that situation!), so Spawn picked her up and braced her, supporting her as they carried my niece to safety/shelter.

Spawn convinced a group of people in a van to take the girls in with them and he went off to (in order of priority) find Chaos and tell him that his daughter was safe and where she was; find his grandmother and tell her *everyone* was safe; find me because he knew his mom would take care of him.

He was stopped on his way by a volunteer on a golf cart who was concerned that he might have hypothermia, so he was taken to the med tent, where he was given a towel to wrap up in (which we later discovered says "Angelica", to our amusement).  He had too many people to find and tell what was going on, though, so he didn’t stay there, opting instead to venture out to hunt down his family so we would all know where everyone was.

Even after he found me and I was taking him to the car to warm up and avoid hypothermia (which he did avoid), he ran off to tell Chaos and Mom where everyone was and that they were safe. I was really impressed to see these young teens really step up and take responsibility, especially when they found themselves in charge of a scared and crying 4 year old.

Mom’s story: http://blog.cavandkav.com/falcon-ridge-folk-fest-2008/

Stories on Live Journal:  http://community.livejournal.com/falconridge/111066.html

Video of the storm itself:  http://youtube.com/watch?v=QjGjqmQhiTk&feature=related  (That’s the volunteer tent, where Spawn, et al, were evacuated from, coming down in the background).

Video of the aftermath:  http://youtube.com/watch?v=J5PKSXi8tpM&feature=related  and  http://youtube.com/watch?v=QD-J0xP6qbg&feature=related

So, yeah, if nothing else, it was a memorable Falcon Ridge.

Heh.  Saturday.

We signed up for alternating Opening/Closing shifts so I slept in.  I had the whole morning to myself and decided to attend a workshop on making wire-wrapped stone jewelry.  I wound up with a gorgeous and unusual pendant of Ocean Jasper from Madagascar.  It was fun and easy and I’ll probably never do it again.  Heh.

One of the women who also took the same workshop, it turns out, has a strange thing in common with me - a pepper allergy.  The weirdest part about pepper allergy (mine AND hers) is that it’s anything with the word pepper.  So even though Bell Peppers and Black Pepper and Cayenne Pepper are not at all related, they’re all encompassed…  It was very validating to meet someone with the same unusual and often-suspected condition as I have.

After the workshop, I went on shift to chaos her and there.  Someone, it turned out, needed to stay (very) late so that Martin Sexton could sell his swag for a half-hour after his performance, which was scheduled to end at 12:20.  I volunteered to do it on the condition that I’d get Sunday off completely.  I wouldn’t find out whether or not this was the case until I came back to help close up shop, but I figured it would probably happen.

When I went to dinner, I ran into a friend on a different crew.  He and I have been festival friends for quite a few years now.  We’d had little change to catch up this time around, so we made a point to get a few minutes in.  I had dinner with a new friend (and crew mate) of mine, who is totally fabulous and I invited her to my campsite for a beer before she went on shift.

We shared some of my favorite beer and dolled up with glowsticks.  My niece pronounced it a "beer and glowsticks party", but then told us that they were having a better party "over there" when the 70’s music started to drift over from a neighboring camp.

Meanwhile…  in the tent that one of Spawn’s friends was staying in there were 4 teenagers piled on top of each other.  Spawn, the 14y/o girl camping with us, and a brother and sister that Spawn had befriended.  They were just hanging out being lazy, lying on top of each other cuddling.  First the sister left, then the brother left, and when he did, I noticed that he zipped up the tent door.  When he came back for a forgotten object, he scratched gently on the door and opened the zipper just enough to get his forgotten thing.

It was then I suspected that Spawn was having a festival romance and, probably, his first (and second and third…) real kiss.  Heh.

But you don’t go from first kiss to needing condoms from the med tent, so I didn’t worry.  They’re good kids, they’re smart kids and they’re young.  This puppy love is something that they need to have without my becoming overly concerned.

That said, all MY friends are teasing the hell out of me.  But I keep checking, and they keep confirming that, no, they don’t believe he’s irresponsible or that he’ll follow in my (stupid) footsteps.  They’re just being assholes about it.  I can live with it.  Better they tease me than tease HIM.

So, anyway, my friend and I parted ways and I went off to kill the last 2 hours before breaking down the Merch Tent and to start my Martin Sexton shift.  I KNEW, even before it was confirmed, that I would be working this "shift".  All day long they had been announcing that we would be staying open…  all day long they had been announcing that Martin Sexton would be doing a signing after his performance. 

I may never forgive that man.

We finished selling close to 1:30am, when the sky OPENED UP and it poured buckets, essentially trapping me and my crew chief in the Merch Tent until close to 3am.  I tied plastic bags on my feet and snagged a lost (cheap) rain poncho that had been left in the Merch Tent.   Then I carefully made my way through the slick (because it was all smoothed) mud and back to the car.  At 3am.  Yeah.

But I was amped from all the excitement and, so, wrote my low-tech blog entry on paper and listened to the cheers and howls of appreciation for spectacular lighting and the lull in the rain that was probably believed to be cessation.  Heh.  Suckers.

It finally stopped raining on Thursday evening and the mud was (mostly) dry by Friday afternoon.  The Teen Crew did excellent work smoothing out the mud and it was quite amusing to watch the process.  They started letting cars in (for the first time since Wednesday!) around 10am, but Mom decided to not bring her car in, in case we needed to leave for any reason.

Spawn had settled in almost fully and I saw little of him.  When I did see him, he was generally with a posse and had a wonderful story to tell.  After this particular adventure, I wish he blogged.

Spirits were high all around once the sun came out.

My back couldn’t take the air mattress + tent, so I took to sleeping on the backseat of the (little) rental car.  It wasn’t ideal, but it was a better alternative than anything else.  OF COURSE they actually gave me a *little* car this time around…  probably had they not, I wouldn’t have had the back problems, or at least not to that extent.

People were really in love with my hair (BAM!).  Strangers and friends alike were complimenting (or commenting on) the color.  They also kept asking me if I’d lost weight, which I haven’t.  It kind of makes me wonder if that’s a default compliment for fat girls or if I actually do look thinner, or maybe it’s just been a year.  Heh.  I’m taking it as "You look good" and it’s nice to hear.  But a little weird.

While hanging out in the Kids’ tent with mom, I saw a man who had a butterfly perched on his finger.  Apparently, it had landed on him and didn’t want to leave.  I guess he was the bug whisperer and his girlfriend told me that she’s started calling him that since this sort of thing happens ALL THE TIME.  He wanted to show the butterfly to the kids, so he wandered around the tent, showing everyone and then headed back off into the festival, butterfly still hanging out on his finger.  Strange things always abound to be seen and/or experienced.

Spawn appeared to have put together a harem and was pretty well supplied with girls most times.  He actually got into the festival state of mind pretty quickly and once that happened, the complaints and harassment stopped entirely.  I actually had to hunt him down to check in or when I wanted to buy him something or to get him to do whatever it was that needed to be done.  I don’t mind at all.  I’m just glad to see him having a really good time for possibly the first time.   He has really come into his own this past year.

Every time I’d move from one place to another, I’d find people I know and we’d stop for a conversation of varying length, depending on the who.  A five minute walk generally takes about a half-hour when you factor in the random encounters.

It’s a music festival, but to me, the music is just background.  Working in the Merchandise tent, I encounter a lot of performers who need to check in merchandise or want to see/fix their displays, but I’m not a folkie.  I don’t know who very many of these people are and I don’t treat them like stars, because I don’t necessarily know who they are.  I’m friendly and kind and as helpful as I can be, but I see people who become rather reverent with some of them, and I’ve found that very few people really want that kind of treatment.  I think it’s good for all of us that, to me, they’re just people…  and even with the performer badge, I won’t get all excited about meeting whoever.  They’re just cool people.

Friday night I went to spend time at Camp Fudgie.  I usually do this on Saturday nights, but for some reason this year, I broke tradition.  One of their neighbors had a wonderful fire pit, so we sat around the fire drinking champagne and talking until around 3am.  Then I went to the car and PASSED OUT.

More rain and lots of it.  Drip, drip, drip and back pain was what I woke up to that first morning, so I lay on the air mattress for about 45 minutes listening to my niece babble on about whatever random things she had to say.  Save for the pain, it was a pretty decent way to start the morning.

My brothers had bagged the whole camping thing Wednesday night and stayed in a motel.  However, they failed to realize that you have to check out of the hotel when you’re done, so Chaos asked if I would ride with him to Great Barrington so he could check out (and there was talk, at this point, of my getting a room for me, Mom and the kids for Thursday night.

We headed out to the mucky, muddy day parking area and climbed into Chaos’ ‘89 Dodge Ram.  I think we made it about 50′ before realizing we were not going to make it out of the parking area.  We had to push the truck and, really, thank gods someone decided to help because that truck is MASSIVE and I was the one pushing it…

No one was getting in or out.  The mud, as opposed to the rain, was permeating.  It was on everyone and in everything and meant that vendors couldn’t get in to set up; that the sanitation truck couldn’t clean out the porta potties (erk..)  One of the funniest things I saw over the whole festival was a giant blue school bus with the words "Powered By Veggie Oil" painted across the back being towed by a tractor through the glop.  I really need to start bringing a camera to these things.

I started busting ass around 10 or 11 in the morning, as usual.  Other people tend to have the physical setup under control, but there’s always a lot of running around that needs to be done.  Considering the slippery, sucking, crazy mud, I wasn’t so much *running*, per se, as skating through the mud trying to find people and fix problems.  A friend and I had both been promoted, her to being in charge of "things", me to being in charge of "people".  Heh.  I’m the "people person".

And I know PEOPLE.  I realized that my standard way of getting questions answered or problems solved or people found is to just go around asking everyone who might have an answer or an idea until I find the right person to talk to.  It kinda doesn’t matter what the question even is…

So I did a lot of work, a little shopping, saw an old friend who moved away and I now reliably see every year at Falcon Ridge, but used to see almost every day.  It’s always a lot of fun to see unexpected, but unsurprising people.

Spawn took some time getting into the swing of things.  Being on the Teen Crew definitely gave him an edge in terms of meeting people and making new friends, but he has a tendency to harass me when he’s bored or lonely.  He did find a few friends to pal around with and there was a 14 y/o girl camping in our little village (the niece of one of my mom’s friends).  He spent most of Thursday evening asking if anyone had seen her and going off in search of her or any of his other friends.  I found myself hoping that he would get to a point where I wouldn’t see much of him.  I knew that the less I saw of him at the festival, the better a time he would be having.

But there was mud, there was music, there was merriment and the festival was ON.

Spawn and I left for Falcon Ridge as soon as we were finished with our pre-fest errands.  We arrived close to 4pm and checked in, chatted to a few people and drove to our site where, thankfully, Mom and Spawn had set up our tents and everything the day before.

It was raining and had been for probably 24 hours.  We sat in our car for about 45 minutes until the rain abated enough for us to actually get out of the car without getting drenched.  We had to wait a while longer to get the air mattresses blown up and our gear into the tents, but we made it alright.

But it turned out that our timing was pretty good because they closed the road into the festival very shortly after we drove in.  I firmly believe that we were one of the last cars they let in that day.  There was too much sucking, pudding mud for people to safely drive anywhere on the site.  Even walking was pretty treacherous and I was glad to have brought shoes that I specifically intended to wreck to the point of never being able to wear them again.

We watched for a while as people arriving had to carry in all their gear to wherever they were camping or planning to camp.  A good number of people had to set up their tents in the wet and rain, but all in all, people were pretty positive and upbeat about the whole situation.  I think that some of us liked the idea of getting the rain over with early on.  Heh.  Or something.

That night was the volunteer open mic and, despite my intentions, I did not play.  There was so much rain and so much changing humidity that I wasn’t comfortable getting my guitar out of the case/car.  I was not the only one.  Usually that open mic has more people wanting to play than there is time for.  This time around, people were being offered second songs to fill the time.

But after a day of waking up early to run around and get things all in order, then braving the rain and mud, we were all pretty tired and went to bed early, so that we could get a fresh start in time for our crew meetings the next day…

I am overcommitted.  I’m not entirely sure how it happened, but all my time has been taken up and what little I thought I had has somehow filled up.

This music thing is not really getting the results I wanted, but the one or two people who are actually interested seem to be actually interested, and want to schedule time to get together.  I’m not sure where that time is.  My mother signed me up to help with a personal project I have been wanting to do for ages, but I’m not going to be able to fit it in.  My brother needs me to go up to Dad’s old place and try to finish clearing it out so we can sell it.  I think I can make time, but I don’t know how much.

Meanwhile, I’ve still got movie nights and open mics and Spawn and work and travel time and an impending vacation that I don’t know if I’m really ready for as yet.  I still need to find someone to take care of my cats, I still need to make the list of things to bring, I still need to dig out the stuff that I only need once a year…  and as of tomorrow, I have 2 weeks to do EVERYTHING.

Maybe I’m starting to panic just a little.

But I also know it’s all going to work out.  In the meantime, I have to figure out how to schedule all the things I’m just too busy to do…

I think that Independence Day is my least favorite holiday.

Don’t get me wrong, I like the sentiment behind it, I like the intention, but the execution is ridiculous.

I’m not a big fan of fireworks at the best of times, I am certainly not a fan of reckless idiots setting off illegal fireworks on my street.  For a week.  Maybe more.  All night, every night.

It wasn’t so much that they were setting off fireworks on the 4th, it was that they had been doing this for days into the wee hours of the morning and, frankly, I was DONE with the explosions. 

I gave them a good 5 hours and it wasn’t until the rockets started hitting the Unitarian church directly across the street from my house that I called the police for the first time in my life.  Seriously.  I had never EVER called the police before - for anything - and I called them to put a stop to the people who thought it was funny that they were very nearly burning down the church - repeatedly.

An hour later, I went outside to assess the situation personally.  I wasn’t sure if the cops had come or not, but now there were two groups of people in the middle of the street.  One down by the Baptist church this time, setting off pretty powerful fireworks and with a whole bunch of screaming kids dancing around the whirling firework and a second, smaller group about 3-4 doors down from me, running into the street, lighting a firework and THROWING it as high up in the air as it could go.

Oh.  HELLS.  No.

So I called the police again and said "Look, I didn’t mind for days.  I didn’t mind for most of tonight, but not only is it midnight, and not only is this the second time I’ve called, but these people are getting progressively stupider (I assume as they are getting progressively drunker) and I’d really rather not be dealing with the fire department tonight."

And that was the truth.  As obnoxious as the fireworks and the people setting them off were, it was the consistency of it for days and the looming possibility of sirens and emergency vehicles all up and down my goddamned street at all hours of the morning.  That would be something that was entirely out of my control and all these people were moving in that direction.

The kids just a few doors down actually got in more trouble as the weekend went on, and were looking for anywhere that might be "cool" to set off their remaining fireworks.  The last I saw/heard from them and/or from the fireworks was when they hauled ass down the street after setting off fireworks in a parking lot on the corner…  just as a cop was driving by.  I don’t want to see anyone arrested, but I think a good talking-to would certainly be in order for these folks.

You see, they had fireworks on Memorial Day, too.  And on New Years.  And on various birthdays.  And whenever they feel like it.

And I haven’t said a thing until now, but THIS TIME I was actually seeing their blatant stupidity and amusement at the potential destruction not only of other people’s property, but of the entire neighborhood.

Fuckers.

And that’s why I hate Independence Day.  Because of how many people refuse to take responsibility for whatever freedoms they do claim.

So the rental place gave me a Dodge Avenger (Steel Silver/Blue).  Not a little car, like I asked for, but certainly a FUN car to drive.  As all my friends told me, "It’s the Iron Man car!"  As a result, on the way up to Maine, all kinds of Massholes wanted to race me.  I obliged all but the red Avenger, who probably got pulled over not long after his insane tailgating and passing and generally being a menace on the road.  I made good time, even with several stops and rolled into Portland around 11pm.

Spent some time catching up with Amber and Jason and then headed off to bed.  I was given the opportunity to spend time with each of them individually as well as together, which was especially nice since I am friends with them individually and as a couple, so it was nice to have those different levels of reconnecting and hanging out.

My primary thought was that I wanted to play guitar on the beach.  I got to do that with Amber and wound up playing for seagulls who landed on the shore and just watched and listened to me.  I was looking for inspiration and I think I found it.  I already have a chorus and the chord structure for the verses and plenty of material to work with to fill it out.

Downtown Portland is a pretty cool place, with funky shops and almost exclusively local businesses and an incredibly number of restaurants and taverns.  What little I saw of their local music scene was cover bands, but that’s not a bad thing and most of what I saw was pretty high quality.  I also noticed that there is an awful lot of visible ink (tattoos) around that city, and that the proportion of pale faces is so high that it’s rather disconcerting.  Not only do I live in a fairly ethnically diverse area, I work in a location with quite a lot of Indian and Asian faces.  To see such a majority of Caucasians is completely foreign to me.  Then again, Maine isn’t all that populous a state, so that may play a factor.

Saturday night, Jason and I hit the down for beer and food.  I got to sample a lot of the food and drink that Portland had to offer, but I’m pretty sure we didn’t even really scratch the surface.  The bars close early (1am) there (and stay open ’til 4 here!) so as I was just starting to get my second wind it was time to leave.  Also, they don’t keep their buses running that late, which is weird.  I’d think that if the city closes down that early, that they’d keep their public transportation available for an hour or so after, but no.  So we took a cab back to their place and wound down back at their apartment.

Sunday was more of a whirlwind, since I wanted to get home at a reasonable time to wind down and get to bed early (the latter didn’t actually happen).  We went back to downtown and wandered around, had some lunch, did some shopping.  It was the nicest day of the weekend, which made me not want to leave, but at the same time, what a nice send off from the state of Maine.

My trip home was much faster, mainly, I think, because the traffic didn’t really allow me to use the cruise control.  Without that set speed, the car really wanted to go 90mph (which is as fast as I’ll *admit* to driving with out of state plates at the end of the month…  heh).  Even though I got caught in the most torrential downpour I have ever tried to drive in and had a good 30 minutes of moving between 5 - 40 mph, I was able to make up the time (probably the going 90 helped) and made it home in 4h 15.

Got home, vegged out for a while, then hooked up with a friend at Borders to have some pretentious coffee.  That was a nice thing, but it kept me up later than I originally intended.  Oh well, good socialization with a favored person is always worth a little sleep deprivation.

My head is back on straight, I feel less bitchy toward most people and I only have a four-day week because we have no king.  It’s good.

Last week was a very interesting week, all told.  In addition to the "Dayum, you’re beautiful" comment that I got on Tuesday morning, I had a bus ride with a man who was making balloon animals (weird) and wound up having a random encounter with one of my dad’s oldest friends, and someone I hadn’t seen in many, MANY years.  It was quite fascinating.

The problem was that my head is all spinning and my thoughts were askew.  I’m all wrapped up in negatives and spent a tense couple of days in abject fear of having the wrong person push the wrong buttons that would lead me to flip the fuck out and say things that would probably be taken the wrong way and cause irreparable rifts.  It has all altered my mood for the worse and made me glad to be running away from home.

I’m not entirely sure if that would be a wrong move to make, but all of it required more thought and not an impulsive explosion on my part.

I played the open mic on Wednesday and found, to my pleasant surprise, that it is working and I’m starting, not only to develop a network, but to create new bonds.  Sitting at a large center table, all kinds of people were coming over to sit with me.  That’s always a nice thing.

Thursday also had some interesting moments, unfortunately, none of them are appropriate to blog about, and most of them make me look bad, even though my part in the whole thing was extremely minor.  Depending on what comes of it, I may write about it at some time in the future.

But the accumulation of all of it drove me out of town, which is certainly preferable to out of my head, and, while sorting through the random BS, I was also able to escape it and enjoy the company of good friends I haven’t seen in far too long (in large part, my own doing).

But that’s a follow-up for another time…