While part of my head is still on a beach in Daytona, laughing at something a bronzed god Tall Dog said, kicking sand in his direction, the rest of me is gearing up for what is going to be a crazy week full of music, laughter, lots of running from stage to stage, and spending time with some of the loveliest people on earth.
I am so looking forward to Portland, it’s not even funny. I have my main gal picking me up from the airport, taking me to do a little sightseeing, and then we have a big ass birthday party to attend for another friend of mine. Then we have four days of absolute craziness at the festival, but it’s the best kind of crazy you can imagine. As we wait for our turn on the photo ramps, we dance and sing and laugh our asses off. Afterward, we decompress with a cocktail or two, telling stories, and laughing even more. And this year? I’m on to that black curb that likes to lurk in darkness. I will NOT fall for its tricks again. (Literally. My knee still bears the scars of that encounter last year.)
I’m excited to see some of the big acts I’ve never seen before, to see some of my favorites all over again, and to basically just drink it all in.
Also, I’m looking forward to some of the bread, the steak, the pita chips (shh), and maybe an elephant ear one day.
Mostly, though, it’s the people. I made such incredible friends last year that just knowing they’re looking forward to seeing me as well makes me very happy.
Only one more day between me and Portland. Just one more day.