When my brother and I set out for the Pitchfork Music Festival this past Thursday, it felt like we’d never get to Chicago. There were hundreds of miles, one night in a hotel in Indiana, and a day of navigating the city’s trains ahead of us. The car ride was long and boring. Time was marked by changing CDs and making stops to go to the bathroom. We got stuck in traffic for forever, but it was all OK because Justin Bieber made this song called “Take You” that is sensational and charged with SEXUAL ENERGY.
After leaving our car at a SUPER SHADY LOT on Friday, we took a bus over to the airport and took the train into the part of the city where we were staying. When we walked out of the train station, it was storming. The thunder and lightning were a little too close for comfort, and it felt like the gods of the skies were shooting one million Super Soakers at us. After getting lost and dragging luggage through some serious puddles, we finally arrived at our hotel only to be told that we had to be 21 to check in. It was like the world was screwing with us. Eventually, the woman at the front desk let us have a room, because whatever law she said kept us from checking in was only if we had alcohol.
When we opened the door to our room, I ran in and did my ritualistic bed-flop. This time it was extra special and passionate, because I was so happy that we would have a place to stay. Shout out to my bed, it was comfy and downy.
We got to the festival, and it was SO FUN YOU GUYS. I ate a lot of greasy food and jammed out to cool tunes and all was good. There are a lot of butt-faces on the planet who think it’s super fun to push their way to the front, trample innocent peeps, and talk LOUDLY about their music tastes.
“Iceage is all right, man. They’re pretty good at what they do, but what they do is average.” –This one guy
“No one cares.” –The world
Other than butt-faces, everything was peaches and cream. I went to my first three hip-hop shows, my favorite of which was Danny Brown. Every time he’d rap something really dirty, everyone would just cheer. It was hilarious and fantastic.
Grimes had these incredible backup dancers who looked like they were casting spells the whole show. She also has better growling game than Rick Ross. ALSO IMPORTANT is the lead singer of Iceage, who happens to be very talented and attractive. I regret getting marker on the heart-shaped pin that my brother made for me of Elias.
There were also SO MANY fashion choices. There was this one girl who had a beer belly and was wearing a bustier and a few nicotine patches, and I will do my best to emulate her from here on out. It looked like no one in the world could mess with her, but also like we could be friends. IDK. She looked confident and because of that, she looked awesome.
I just got back from seeing Vampire Weekend. I danced so much that my shins sweated (ew, sorry). It was AWESOME. Now I’m lying in bed. My feet are covered in blisters, I have a sunburn from the neck up, and I’m so hungry I would eat chewed gum off of the sidewalk if I had no other option. BUT I’M SO HAPPY. In fact, I love that I have blisters and that my skin is peeling off. It means that I experienced something. Right now, I’m just replaying everything I saw in my mind and SOAKING IT ALL IN, YO. It feels good. Like eating-a-slice-of-pizza-in-the-sunshine good. ♦