If you read my last post, you may truly get a kick out of this. I concluded the last one saying, “I’m back,” before absolutely disappearing again. This time it was for good reason. The day after I posted that, life decided it wanted to put me through the ringer one last time. I mean, it was the conclusion of my quarter life crisis, and I had to end it with a memorable one, right?
So, no more empty promises from me. I’m writing this on a whim, on a burst of inspiration, that I can’t guarantee I’ll have next week. Hell, I don’t even know if I’ll have it next month, so I’m done saying I’m back for good.
Upon waking up from a post-brunch food coma nap, I had a little moment of reflection. That last post was really sad, but still hopeful. Little did I know I was mentally going to be going to war with myself within 24 hours. I’M FINE NOW I SWEAR, but wow. Do we ever stop and take a moment to appreciate the growth we’ve had in such a short amount of time? I mean, I always look back on memories from years ago and think to myself, “that girl was so different.” However, I’m looking at that blog post from May, and I don’t even know that person anymore.
Let’s dial it back real quick.
If you’re here expecting some tea about work, you won’t find it. Glad I got that one out of the way.
Upon posting that, life came at me quick. Countless days of me barely leaving my room, unless it was to walk dogs. Brushing my teeth was sometimes a chore, but hey at least I showered. It just really wasn’t glamorous and I was still too stubborn to admit that I couldn’t entirely fix my own problems. Toward the end of June, I was realizing I didn’t want to go into my next year of life like this. Especially when my birthday consisted of my first festival back from a pandemmy. There was no way I was going there all crusty and dusty mentally! So, we got some therapy, got some meds, and got our shit rocked. In the BEST WAY POSSIBLE. To say I feel like a changed woman would be an actual lie. I realized shortly after fixing my mental health, that it doesn’t work like that. I more so feel like the old version of me, the spontaneous person who really doesn’t care what other people think about what she’s doing with her life. The one who says yes to everything, even on 2 hours of sleep. I feel like I got her back.
So, now that we got that out of the way, we can talk about festies again YAY.
My birthday is so iconic apparently that Insomniac had to throw me my own party. Called Day Trip. Originally, the festival was supposed to happen in the San Pedro harbor. They only sold a certain amount of tickets during the pandemic and thought it would be a more exclusive small event. WRONG. So, it had to be moved to San Bernardino. Definitely my number 1 choice of cities I wanted to boil in on my birthday. Nevertheless, I strapped on my fanny pack and went. It was a house music only festival, which felt like a much needed baby step back into raving. Most of us haven’t gone hard in two years, which I shudder to think about. It was so needed. If you weren’t there I really feel bad for you. Phones on airplane mode, vodka redbulls in hand, it felt normal again.
Even MORE normal, I’m going back to Vegas. While I tend to go quite often when there isn’t a raging virus tempting my fate, this time is going to be beyond expectations. My friends and I have seen each other through all walks of life lately, but we haven’t gotten the chance to dance under the neon lights again….UNTIL THIS WEEKEND. I can’t wait to obsessively thank them for sharing these moments with me, another little quirk that demon me loves to do. Thanking my friends for existing. I mean, how cute am i?
Consider this blog post a pregame if you will. I couldn’t stand to end things on such an openly negative note since May. So much has changed since then. It’s time to start getting into my madness blogging. The near death festival experiences, which hopefully I’ve grown out of. Or, the drunk nights I can only remember half of and we get to sit and piece them together on here. AND all the Vegas trips I will be taking this fall. I couldn’t just hit you with those stories out of nowhere, I had to let you know they were coming. I had to preface by saying all those morbid posts from the last six months are done. We will miss that girl so much, LA really did shit whip her and change her quick, but new me old me is back. I know we all missed her.
I know, I know. Yet another blog post ending with no playlist to show for it. What kind of Spotify DJ am I? A fraud.
Don’t worry, a more beachy playlist is on the horizon. For all my Topanga adventures.
However, I will leave you with this one song that kind of puts everything into perspective for me. I don’t know how, and I don’t know why, but some songs speak to me in ways they probably weren’t intended to. The song is about wanting to turn back time, and go back to when things were different. Seemingly with a love interest. Absolutely cannot relate to that one, but I can relate to wanting to turn back time. I would love to go back to the days of not worrying about when my next festival will be, and thinking music would cure my mental health. I’ve learned though, that’s not realistic. I always find myself wishing I could turn back time, but never enjoying the moment. So, while this song makes me feel nostalgic for two seconds, it also strangely makes me enjoy the present a lot more. I mean, if it weren’t for the present I never would have heard this song on my birthday. SO! Enough said.
Talk to you when I recover from Vegas…BYEEEEEEEEEE.