BEDA 4: August 4th

We woke up hungover on cheap wine and freedom. I vowed to avoid substances for the somewhat near future out of self respect and honestly being entirely turned off them. Small reminders of what had happened the previous night were hanging around, such as a floor coated with crunched up ramen noodles and the lipstick coated rim on the box of Pure Breakfast, reminding us that we had chased the worst wine in the world (decidedly worse than Strawberry Hill) with juice straight from the container.

I guess the trip had gone too smoothly until this point because everything was a trudge from this point on. Maegan and I trudged out to Saint Catherine Street to go shopping while Hannah slept and thanks to a pickpocket, Maegan is now missing her phone and we missed Icona Pop because of our hopeless backtracking. Nausea and defeat were present simultaneously. It was in this state that we ate MacDonald's and in the elevator found that a guy who is a known drug dealer from back home was staying in the room next door to me.

We made it to the festival grounds at 5pm and saw some of the Holy Ghost!, the loudest and most serious synth pop band of all time. We tried to see The Lumineers but we arrived a few minutes after it started so finding a decent spot was a hopeless cause. We left and devoted ourselves to finding prime spots for Father John Misty. It worked and we found ourselves in the 2nd row from the front. Father John Misty was hilarious; he gave me a new appreciation for booty. He works his dance moves and his tight pants like no other white man I've ever seen. His in between song banter was fantastic, as were his frequent trips to his decanter of tequila sitting on an amp. A lady of at least 30 in front of me decided to drink in sync with him from a flask she produced from her purse. She offered some to me and both still being in a 'yolo' mindset and being too passive to say no, I took a swig and immediately regretted it. My system is disgusted with it for the time being.

We were so incredibly tired and hungry by 8 that we decided to miss Mumford and Sons. I'll be forever be a little disappointed in myself for missing that, mostly as a claim to fame, but we had attained the special kind of exhaustion to voluntarily not go to Mumford and Sons. We got Mexican food and I nearly fell asleep in it. I set my alarm for 4:30am and mentally prepared for a day of riding the bus back.
Hearts,
Julianne