*rediscovered in the notes of my iPhone...

Coachella 420 

We rode in through the mountains.
We dropped a pin at our car. 
We met a pirate and he gave us swords. We hopped on board and drove us in through gates, around fences, past campsites, through squads and couples heading in for the day. 
We hopped off and paid the tender and headed in toward the Ferris wheel. 
It was another hot day.
Thousands of people moving, posing, laughing, feeling, looking, searching. 

We were searching for a glitter bar and a hidden cocktail bar. We zig zagged across the grounds. Eventually we hit our first target. After getting a face full of make up we slipped a tab of acid. Then we made our way to the hidden bar. Password: PDTiki.

After a $16 cocktail, a slow, fuzzy, sexy come up passed over me. I knew then I had to put my phone away. I had to see, move, feel myself, feel other people, touch the lights. 

I was thinking about you. And you. And you... 

Weezer. Billie Eilish. I could see the music.

Time for a break.

We made the trek to my least favorite place: the bathroom. My greatest fear in life is being left by the bathrooms at a music festival. One time I lost my brother and I’ll never forgive myself.

We were here for Ashley. Sarah and I decided not to go in. We waited by the entrance. A petite Arianna Grande replica with long brunette hair, lots of eye make up, and a crochet lace up dress crouched in a corner. She was the epitome of a festival princess. 

I made eye contact to see if she was okay. She looked right back into my eyes. She asked out of all sincerity: 

“You don’t happen to have a snack do you? I could really use a snack.”

Her Bambi eyes melted me. The stereotype of the situation and her genuine hope had me hooked. I turned to Sarah. I knew she’d have something. She flung her back pack around to her front. She never fully opened it at all that day. Every time we needed something, she  shoved her arm in, elbow deep, and felt for whatever she (we) needed. 

This time, as always, she came up victorious: A clementine. We opened it for the festival princess and we all sat and watched the crowds flow in and out of the bathroom. 

Eventually Ashley returned to us. Sweet, sober Ashley. 

We made our way to Tame Impala. We wanted a good position. We laid out a blanket on the grass and sat indian style. Burned a cigarette. Damn American Spirits last forever. We felt the crowd roll in around us. Then, it was time.

Space ship. Lasers. Liquid dreams. Groovy beats. Overwhelmed. 

ASAP Rocky appears. We don’t know who he is at first and are embarrassed by our ignorance. He killed the vibe a little because the crowd went insane. Then he came back to us. To me. He performed “L$D.” I added it to my Spotify playlists this morning. Thank you.

Tame brought us down gently. We roamed around, a trio of women, bended knees, swaying hips, big hearts. 

Time to go. One more stop. Okay. Time to go.

Follow the red line. Follow our dropped pin. Follow the mountains home to a desert home under the stars. 

I still have glitter on my face.