Tuesday, August 9, 2011

You wanted a blog - Here's a blog. Now Sush!


My friends, this is a limited edition blog post so don’t get used to it.  I’m writing from a desk in an office.  Not what you were expecting as a sign in?  Well that’s really too bad isn’t it?  I ran out of “Australia puns” months ago… You of all people should be aware of this.  You probably think I’m setting it up right now somehow don’t you? That a pun is just around the corner?  Well forget it! I will no longer be your Pun-dit.  Dammit. I did it again.  Why must you forsake me with such wit, universe?!

In any case, I’m writing this blog because recently I was privileged enough to be the main character in a story so unbelievable, so incredibly awesome that in an intoxicated haze I promised the wrong people that I would write a blog recounting the epic tale.  Thinking back, I’m strongly opposed to the idea as I believe that any night worth being a legendary story shouldn’t be documented and simply live in infamy for eternity – but then that’s just me.  I guess I can share this one time.

I guess I should start off by saying that I came back to Australia a couple months ago.  Yeah… I chased love all the while having set up a sweet internship to occupy myself during the daytime.  Marvelous idea! WOOT!  Well, couple months out, when everything was set up, the love I was chasing out ran me and I left doubting my trip was a good idea at all.  So I said to myself: “Self! Just change the purpose of your trip.  Don’t let a girl get you down.”   So that’s what I did – hoping that  I would not have to buy a carton of milk, scratch out the letters M-I-L-K on the bottle and replace them with “Legen-” to get my daily dose of Legendary while back in the Australian city that had provided me with so many great memories a few short months ago.  I’m almost done my internship and time here and I have to say that I did not purchase 1 carton of milk.  Australia delivered once again.  Key example – the following story.

There’s this local, well barely, music festival every year here called “Splendor in the Grass”.  You spend three days in a drunken haze sleeping in a tent in the country side with thousands of your fellow splendor lovers getting smellier every day while listening to great music.  This place turns into its very own mini-ecosystem for the length of the festival (Sure glad I’m not on cleanup duty…).  Anywho, the tickets to this insane experience are as insanely expensive (around 530$ if you’re going to camp) and with my travelling budget and the fact I’m not getting paid for this internship, I decided that not showering for three days, not cleaning the house, playing music loudly on the stereo at the same times they were supposed to play at the festival and roasting marshmallows over the toaster would have to do.  I called it “Splendor in the Trash”.  Patent pending. 
My roommates had tickets.  Well actually, the tickets took the form of a little pink bracelet that all the attendees had to wear.  They weren’t camping – which made it worse because they would come home and make fun of my marshmallows.  Jerks.  Yeah, I know you agree but we must give people a chance.  On Sunday, one of the boys couldn’t make the festival.  I can’t remember who suggested this but the idea of putting his bracelet on me came up.  BOOM!  You know those scenes where people float in the air to funky music in slow motion?  I had one of those.  To the soundtrack of the band I would be seeing that evening, about two hours later – for free.  Coldplay.  Now I don’t care who you are and what your musical tastes are – You don’t pass up a free Coldplay ticket (I’m looking at you Claire!)

Obviously, we had to get the bracelet off my friend and onto me, which proved difficult but with a little ingenuity (more like a couple beers, a hammer and some pump up music – Get creative in those thought basins of yours) we managed to make the switch just in time to jump in the car and head to the show.
Running towards the end of the show grounds, I got a sense for how huge this place was. Wow.  After a good 10 minutes of walking, we got to the entrance to the stage for the show and we were only allowed to go join the crowd from the very back.  The other entrance to the stage (leading right to the front) was closed and they were only letting people leave the stage.  Bummer.  We started walking up towards the back of the stage dreading the time it would take for us to get a decent spot and the number of people we would piss off doing it… HOLD THE PHONE.  We are walking up and I realize: “We are in the forest.  Therefore, the only thing separating us from the other path is… A FOREST! WHOOO!” I didn’t even consult my compatriots and I was off running through the forest – Suffice to say they caught on and minutes later we were in front of the stage, waiting for Coldplay to come on with bloody hands and dirty pants from all the falls and “god knows whats” in what I like to call the “Foresty patch of greatness” that led us to the stage.

In addition to a fabulous concert, we met some cool people, some wise wizards and probably pissed some people off blasting Coldplay in the parking lot after the show during the massive traffic jam that ensued.  All in all, it was probably the best concert experience of my life and it had very little to do with the band we were seeing… I think it was because usually you have many months preceding the concert in which you progressively get pumped to go.  I did that in an hour and a half.  Pure gold, Jerry.

Now, I dash back to the blogless hole from whence I came to keep considering whether or not I should start a blog back again.  Hopefully it happens some time soon. 

Australianly yours,

Joey Jo Jo   

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