You can take the girl out of the rave….but you can’t take the raver out of the girl….or can you?

I wrote this 8 months ago.  It’s long.  But a good and true story.

A few months ago, I re-reconnected with a dear friend Jessica.  This friend and I long ago used to spend multiple nights a week dancing for hours at what the ‘regular’ people would call raves. To us they were parties.  Parties we had on Fridays, Saturdays and sometimes a recovery party on a Sunday night.  And if we weren’t dancing at a party we were doing it in the living room of wherever we lived…in one instance to our own reflections in the windows of the Portland Plaza….for hours.  But it took the right sound for us to feel the urge to dance.  The right beat and when it was just right, it was exactly that….just right.  No matter what was going on in our lives in that moment it was all good.  We called it therapy.  And we needed it often.  We were surrounded by DJs and good music and looking back I credit our tiny physiques to those hours of dance.  And we….or I took it for granted.

 

When we reconnected we talked about this feeling…this bleeding in our souls for the beats that used to carry us through such a crazy time.  We have both been deprived since moving forward in our lives and, not finding that old scene fitting, have lost touch with the very sound that we called therapy.  I concocted an idea that we should make a trip to Seattle for one of the annual parties and get some 5+ years of dance therapy.  I found a party and knew one of the DJs from our old days and knew that of the long lineup we could at least count on him to deliver that sound we needed.  Unfortunately my dear Jessica could not go this particular weekend, but I had set my heart on it and was determined to go.  I got my sister on board and my husband bought us tickets as my mother’s day gift.  The best gift I could have gotten. 

Last weekend after weeks of buildup and utter excitement I headed up to Seattle for my weekend of dance!!!  I got there Friday night and was surprised in the morning by the arrival of one of my favorite people…my brother Simeon (okay…ex brother-in-law turned brother from another mother).  Well…he wasn’t technically there for me as it was his daughter and my niece Jade’s 15^th birthday.  However…when he woke me up and said “so are we going to party tonight?” I knew it was destined to a FUN time. 

I knew my old friend Doug would be playing at 9:30 and I HAD to be there for his set.  The more mainstream DJs started at 10:30.  Of the two of them I had to hear LMFAO play their current hit Party Rock Anthem…this was not to be missed.  If I got to dance to Dig-Doug and that single track my night would be perfect.  David Guetta was the main attraction and given all his popular tracks I was excited for him as well….he played until 1:30 so I knew we wouldn’t miss him.  We decided to leave at 8:30 for the party.  I was already stressing out a bit because the beautiful sunny day had turned into a storm so my hair was sure to be wrecked by the time we got in and my shirt was bugging me because my bra straps were showing (unimportant detail at this point but it all gets better…keep reading).  We arrived in downtown Seattle at what I am guessing was 9:30 and it was crazy.  Apparently there was a soccer game shortly ending so parking was nothing short of a joke.  It was so busy down there it was nuts.  As we were driving around to find parking we saw some soccer fans riding on a rickshaw and started joking that we needed that rickshaw!  We decided to park far away and cab it if we needed.  The blue dot on the iphone told us we were .9 miles away from our destination so we decided we would just make the 13 minute walk since most of it was under a long overpass and we could avoid getting completely drenched when….behold…an empty rickshaw drew near.  We hopped on and shortly arrived at our destination….let the PARTY begin…or not.

There was a mass of people in front of the WAMU arena and we quickly realized the insanity was THE LINE.  It was probably close to 10 so we were into Doug’s set but I still thought we would get in real quick and I could catch the tail end of his set and still see LMFAO and Guetta.  HA…real quick was not to be.  We stood in that line for….get ready…..2 hours.  Not just 2 hours but 2 PAINFUL hours.  It was unreal.  I could not believe nor could any of the thousand 20-25 year olds high on ecstasy believe this was happening.  From inside I could hear the pounding bass and beats I had been dreaming of, all go down without me.  Not that our time in line was not an event in itself.  During this time I started to realize that the raver in me had oh so subtly been replaced the grown up responsible me.  I had to intervene in a fight between two ladies in their early twenties…one drunk and sloppy…the other high on something…I couldn’t make a proper assessment as I was blinded by the large quantity of glitter pasted on her face and body.  The fight was immature and totally groundless….probably started out of boredom.  I made it very clear to the instigator that I would not allow her to get us stuck in this line any longer and that she should grow up and forget this BS immediately. As if I was the mother of all these idiots.  I handled this situation so well from my day to day experience with two feuding siblings.  This was a part of me I had meant to leave at home.  Also during our time in line we started to joke about my deep concern of my bra straps showing.  Half the people were half naked and glitter, glow stick covered spectacles.  One bright young girl asked me who I was dressed up as (the party was Beyond Wonderland…Alice in Wonderland theme).  When I told her Alice she told me what a great job I did because I TOTALLY looked like her!!  Good stuff that girl had…that’s for sure. 

I know during our time in the line all three of us contemplated leaving.  Going to a bar and actually enjoying the rest of our night.  But we were in the homestretch and I was determined to get in there and dance.  At that moment I heard what I was sure was Party Rock Anthem and a large amount of screaming.  It could not be…I already missed Dig-Doug and now this?  I denied it and convinced myself it would be played ‘maybe again’ or it just simply wasn’t it.  Suddenly we got close enough to see what was taking so long…it was the slow filtering of ravers and a few grownups(myself and my party)through pat downs.  NOW after 2+ hours I was anticipating a TSA style pat down…so when the woman rubbed my shoulder and hips real quick, I could have punched her.  That’s all…that’s it?  You better be checking me for lice if this is what was making me wait so long and miss my show.  

So we are in.  I ran into the main room and could not tell who was playing but I asked some raver kid “who is this?”  He said it was LMFAO just finishing their set.  Next ‘frantic’ question…”did they play party rock anthem?” Response; “YEAH…it was SIIICK!!” With that he was added to my long list of people who needed to be punched in my evening.  We needed a drink.  We went to the well placed (sarcasm) bar area and waited 15 minutes for a couple beers.  We had to drink them there so we were serenaded by all three DJs playing music all mixed together as we were square in the middle of all of it.  It was painful…I was seething.  Obviously after such a long wait we were due for a bathroom visit.  So we went.  I saw a huge line and immediately freaked thinking ‘could this be my destiny? Another line?’  Imagine my relief to see that this was actually the line for the water fountain for all the E-tards (I always thought this was a dumb term but for this night…oh so fitting) high as @#it…so high I feared their tongues would not survive the night.  I fought my way through the vapor rubbed, sweaty, tongue chewing crowd to the bathroom and was lucky to get right in.  While there I made a decision.  I needed to dance, but my fury simply would not allow me so I needed a drink…NO…two drinks…immediately.  I looked around the bathroom and became sad.  All these young ladies…doing drugs….here for that and not the music.  Who would make it home?  Who would leave in the ambulance waiting in front for that exact reason?  Where did these people’s parents think they were?   DRINK…you must drink or all these thoughts would continue to ruin this experience.  We agreed the bar was the place to go.

When we arrived at the bar area…get this…there was another line.  As we waited I heard one of the DJs playing ‘black and yellow’.  I ran away from my bro and sis and got myself right into the crowd and started dancing…next to me there was a group of kids ravered out looking at me.  I knew this look.  I had granted this look to others in my party days.  This look of ‘what the hell are you doing here?  You don’t know ANYTHING about what it means to be here’.  After ‘black and yellow’ I ran off back to the bar.  I love this song so much and those few moments of dancing made me wonder if maybe just maybe my night was starting to turn for the better?  I soon got my answer.  I got in the bar area and found my crew.  Sim went to grab a beer and I hopped in the, what seemed to be, short line for the hard drinks…I needed a hard drink now.  After about 15 minutes in this line I looked at the front and realized the SAME guy had been there the entire time I was waiting.  The sign said two drinks per person but what people were doing is grabbing 10 of their friends id’s and pointing at random people saying ‘these are for them’ and would get 20 drinks at once.  So what looked like 5 or 6 people was in actuality 50 or 60….awesome.  And as a note these were not bartenders.  These were women who worked for the arena and had 25 cats waiting at home for them.  They moved like snails and could have cared less about the mass in front of them.  Enter Tony…good looking friendly guy.  Dressed normally and equally frustrated about this BS party.  “Can you believe these lines?”  No Tony…I could not.  We bitched a little about how crazy lame the party had turned out for us and realized there were at least a few people like me roaming this insanity.  He asked if I wanted to team up to get drinks.  I hid my wedding ring behind the cell phone I was holding (nothing was getting in the way of my need for a drink) and agreed.  He was a little more aggressive and I was just pissed and screaming at this point.  He grabbed my id and after letting the nice girl next to us, who was on the verge of tears, get her drinks he ordered us up and kindly paid for my drinks.  He handed them back to me and said “have fun”.  Thank you Tony you are a gentleman and are not on my ‘to be punched’ list.  When I left the line I walked over to my crew and Sim said…”you were in that line for 45 minutes”.  OF COURSE I WAS.  Well…45 minutes of waiting equaled about 45 seconds of slamming my two single shot drinks.  It was time to dance and my tiny buzz might allow me to enjoy it.

We entered the main room and I linked hands with Sim and Cathy.  If there is one thing I am good at is getting right up in the middle of the action as close to the DJ as possible…being a DJ groupie taught me this skill long ago(true story).  So we got up as close as I wanted as the naked e-tard sweat was staring to overcome me.  Some guy looked at me and said he needed a hug and told him he better find someone who cared about that situation as I did not.  Then I started to dance.  It felt good and I knew most of the tracks Guetta was playing.  Right when we got in he started playing one of his more popular tracks when out came two GIANT transformer looking led covered dudes.  This was sick for sure(yeah I said it-sick!).  They were shooting lasers into the crowd and everyone was going wild and just as the beat dropped smoke started to come out of their lasers(see video below).  So far this was the best part of the night.  After the track Guetta kept dropping right back into the same fist pumping bassline fit for the Situation or Snooki.  I know and love a lot of David Guetta’s music but this was not pleasing me and made me SICK for missing Doug’s set.  I think had I been in a better mood and my night had gone differently I would have really enjoyed the set.  After probably 20 minutes of this same bassline we all looked at each other and decided to leave.  Goodnight Wonderland (my ass), goodnight e-tards (hope you make it through the night), good night stupid VIP section (more people for my ‘to punch in the face’ list), goodnight stupid bartenders, goodnight glow sticks, goodnight glitter, goodnight stupid party.  Goodnight.

 BUT WAIT.  The night didn’t end there.  We decided for redemption we would head into a bar for a few.  I ordered a drink and finished it in no time at all when beside me appeared a young lady.  Glitter and glow paint covered with a clockwork orange eyelash theme (creative) she asked the bartender for the hardest thing she could get (“that’s what she said”…literally).  She was frustrated and complaining about the party…I asked her about it and once she realized I had been there she started to vent.  She told me she did ecstasy and it did not work (it worked) and the whole night was a bust.  I asked her how old she was. She was 22 and I said “you should be going to school instead of taking ecstasy and going to raves” (because I have so much room to talk, minus the ecstasy that was me).  Her eyes grew and she excitedly told me she had just applied for law school.  So what the hell are you doing with that ecstasy then?  I told her she didn’t want to waste her early years partying and wake up 30 with no education and only parties to speak of.  She was speechless…ha…no…not even close.  I was an ORACLE she said.  She couldn’t f-in believe that she has been going over in her mind whether to go to school or take time or what and here I am telling her just what she needed to hear.  Remember…the ecstasy did not work.  I in fact AM an oracle and one of the most awesome, amazing, wise people in the world.  It became a huge discussion and we took pictures and I convinced her just to go back to the party with her friends (it was her girlfriend’s birthday) and just enjoy the ride for one night.  Just make better decisions tomorrow.  She loved me and it was real (HA HA no it wasn’t she was REALLY high).  She gave me her number and since I knew I had no reason to ever call this girl I wrote down my name and told her to find me on facebook.  I still have not heard from Maura and was sure as I wrote it I never would.  We had a couple more drinks and laughed at my ORACLE status and departed.  It was raining but who the hell cared at this point. And BEHOLD…another rickshaw…we hopped on and made our way to the car.  After a 4am trip to Denney’s I headed back to my hotel and immediately showered the ecstasy sweat off me and hopped into a nice cozy hotel bed.  I missed my husband.

So to the question ‘can you take the raver out of the girl?’ to that I guess I would have to say yes.  Can I ever cure my addiction to the deep beautiful basslines that make the blood flow though my veins…no.  I should have known a party of this scale was not for lover of this music but for people who wanted to experience the RAVE scene.  I could have saved over $200 on tickets and caught Doug at a club sometime with adults and some alcohol which is what I plan on doing as redemption for this awful evening.  But I knew better.  That line would have NEVER been okay at a Clapton or Usher concert.  Ticketmaster would have had a hailstorm of crazy complaints and fury.  But are a bunch of kids high on who knows what really going to make an issue of it?  Probably not.  Did the promoters make a KILLING on this party?  Absolutely.  I don’t know how many people were there but thousands for sure.  Will I ever go to a RAVE of this scale again?  No.  I’ll leave these in my past.  Will I go listen to DJs at bars or clubs?  Yes.  Because that is what has become of me.  I don’t stay up until 4 in the morning anymore, I don’t do drugs, I work my ass off as a mom of three, I’m lucky if I can catch a tv show at night.  But I will never stop loving my music and I will NEVER stop dancing.  So I guess the moral of the story is you CAN take the raver out of the girl but I don’t need a title to love what I love.  And was the $200+ dollar evening worth it?  Yes.  Riding in a rickshaw with two of my favorite people.  Priceless.  MAYBE influencing a young girl to make better choices.  Worth it.  Enough content to fill 5 pages.  Definitely worth it.  I guess you don’t have to be a raver to have fun.

With love,
Former raver Kamanda
Eternal bassline addict Mandy

  

Also...check out the transformer dudes...Kryoman...
Kryoman w/ Guetta video

Mike thinks I'm funny...

Hello and welcome to my BLOG!  Is that how I am supposed to start it?  Okay so let’s start off by talking about what this blog will be about.  I know you are dying to know.  If you are on the edge of your seats be ready for some disappointment as I will not be blogging about my wonderful cooking skills or my awesome ability to organize anyone but myself.  No, I have decided after much consideration that my blog will be about…drum roll please…me!  Even better than what you hoped right?!  Actually for a long time I have considered blogging but just didn’t know what to categorize it as or what I would organize my thoughts into.  But the truth is, I don’t think in an organized fashion so why should my blog be?  I (over)think about everything and pretty much have an opinion about everything so why not just talk about whatever comes into my silly little mind.  And I have the best subject matter in the world…three adorable kids.  And they are funny (which they get from me).  So in this blog you will read about whatever comes to mind because the truth is, I love writing and why not share that with the world(or my at least 3 friends that will probably read this)?

You may be curious about the name of my blog.  Mike thinks I’m funny?  Let’s go back in time a little.  When my 5 year old Addie was about one year old I decided I needed to get a job.  Mainly due to the craziness of our lives at that time, I needed a distraction from the chaos we were dealing with.  My friend Alisha had the perfect fit for me doing data entry 3 nights a week.  I started working and met a guy who at the time was 20.  He was quite frankly one of the best people I have ever met.  He was just what I needed at that time.  Highly spiritual and extremely deep we became friends immediately.  Now let me tell you about Mike.  He is one of those people who everybody likes.  And if you don’t like him you are probably fake or simply a person who prefers to live on the surface of life.  He is the kind of person who probably literally has 1,000 friends (fact check: 1,931- I checked his facebook).  And he is likely really good friends with every single one of them.  When you are with Mike you feel like the only person in the world.  He really makes you the most important thing and builds you up where many people, even without trying, tear you down. 

Now let’s not get things confused here.  Mike is an amazing guy and a good friend but it’s not like ‘that’.  If you are here you likely know about my amazing husband and our ‘disgusting’ happiness and love for each other.  I simply adore Mike’s honesty and openness about all things in life.  So much so that because of our friendship we didn’t actually get much work done (sorry Alisha).  I remember one day coming into work and he wasn’t talking to me and I really thought he was mad at me, only to find out he had been ‘talked’ to about our excessive conversing.  At the time I met Mike our family life was in ruins through no fault of Eric’s or mine.  We were dealing with my oldest daughter’s biological mom and her full time job was making our life hell and Eric suffer.  It was a constant issue.  We could never relax because the next thing was around the corner waiting for us, right there ready to tear any bit of joy we had to bits.  I know it sounds dramatic but it is no embellishment.  Those of you who really know me know this to be true.

I needed work to distract me because all of the problems were making my life completely unenjoyable, which is a really sad thing when you have found the love of your life and a have a precious baby.  Going to work every day saved me and my conversations with Mike made it even better.  He has a fresh perspective on people and human behaviors that some search their whole lives for.  He helped me enjoy what I had and allowed me to vent in an honest way.

Okay, so enough sap.  The greatest thing about Mike is that he thinks I’m funny.  Not just funny but FUNNY.  Obviously he has an incredible sense of humor.  I used to give him the latest Addie story or drama situation and even if it wasn’t a funny topic he found humor in it.  He long ago told me to start a blog but I resisted.  You see I know that blogging is such a ‘fad’.  It’s like ‘what? you don’t have a blog??’.  And quite frankly I read some and wonder who made that person feel so important that I would want to waste the 6 minutes I just did on that?  And I am not one who thinks I’m that important.  The truth is I really don’t at all.  I don’t know who will read my blog or why but I guess that shouldn’t matter right?  If I like to do it then so be it!  Mike and Eric have both said that I need to get over my insecurities and just do it.  Mike literally said ‘the world needs to know Mandy!!’  You see it’s not that I don’t think I’m awesome and funny.  I mean I laugh at my own jokes daily.  I’m just not sure others find me to be as clever as I do myself. 

But why?  I mean I’m sick of pretending I’m not a bitchen rockstar from Mars.  Tiger blood.  Adonis DNA.  Wait.  I diverted. 

I have to give credit to my lovely husband for this blog as well.  He too has been telling me to do it forever.  He even started one for me about a year ago but I never touched it.  Why is it that when the loves of our lives tell us to do something or tell us we are great we don’t believe it until an outsider confirms it?  And why even do I need anyone’s approval in the first place?  That’s a big question for everyone I believe.  The path I took to get here today was a rocky one but I don’t have to hide that anymore.  I was a party girl and I am who I am because of it and let’s be honest, I presume some good stories will come out of that part of my life.

So in closing, in this, my very first blog entry...I admit that I have succumb to this fad of blogging and also that I don’t care if you don’t like it(I do so don’t tell me).  Come, read, laugh or don’t(but if you don’t-never come back).  And I hope you all have the incredible sense of humor that my perfect husband Eric and good friend Mike have. J

Mandy