Hippy Fest, parts 1 and 2 of 2

So, this weekend was not at all like I had planned. First off, when I got home on Friday I decided, to get back at my better judgment, to go out with the roommate and friends to a pizza/bar/hipster mecca where I promptly and unwisely ate food I shouldn’t have, and had a drink that I shouldn’t have, and therefore gained calories, lost money, and was about as exhausted as if I had dug a tunnel to China. It was fun though, so whatevs.

Then the Raw Spirit Festival. Interesting. Not as much fun as I thought, for the following reasons: a) I was alone (which was actually what I had wanted, but ended up working against me. I claim an actual presence, instead of a thought presence, of the boy would have made it better, at least for conversationalist purposes. He also eats meat.), b) I was bored (people were not as friendly as I thought they would be – not one person asked where I was from, what I did, why I was there, or even if I was 100% raw. OK I lied, a deaf man asked me that, but just him. And does it count if he isn’t actually SAYING it?), c) I was uber craving alone time (OK so this seems weird since I just said it wasn’t fun because I was alone. I guess the difference is I was alone doing something that would have been better with people, but not alone doing something that would have been done best alone, i.e. being alone). D) I was hungry. I tried to eat raw the whole time I was there, and caved on Sunday when I just ate vegan. But the one day I ate raw, it definitely had an effect.

I did not end up camping there on Saturday since I was working registration and got off an hour early and realized a few things, like I had no tent, it was going to rain, and I did not feel like being a gourmet buffet to a nation of mosquitos. So I drove home gratefully and got a few hours of sleep before going back. This is the first time I had been given the opportunity to camp and didn’t take it – I love camping. But I felt that it had the potential to be hugely rocking fun and wild, if I could make a few friends. But people didn’t care that much. And I promise I wasn’t being antisocial, or grumpy. I was very smily and open. But alas, no raw friends.

So I my camera wasn’t working, but there wasn’t all that much special to see anyway, so I culled a couple photos off the web so you can see what it was like. In no particular order you get photos of: Happy Oasis, whom I met, who is actually a pretty reasonable hippy, but I don’t think I would get along with her, musicians that were actually there, and a bunch of photos of people that I’m fairly certain I saw there. In abundance were the following: lots of hair, lots of dreads (both clean and filthy), lots of tie dye, lots of skin, lots of skipping and frolicking, lots of people you would never expect were raw vegans, lots and lots and lots of young wandering youth. I realized a few things in my 10 hour stint as a raw foodist, all of which I am grateful for now knowing. This includes: I am grateful for the East Coast. Seriously there is only so much “everyone is god, we are all love, and we are each other” conversations you can have with people, especially when they don’t care to get to know you. Sometimes you just want to talk about something real without having “healing energies” or “the universe plans all” or “beautiful aura” stuck in there somewhere. I wonder if I really could handle California. Also these people are fukken beautiful. Seriously beautiful. All toned, and bright, and confident. I definitely felt like I had to go do ten hours of yoga when I got home. Which is convenient, since September is National Yoga Month.