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Jul. 24th, 2006 04:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jianantonicWhen we left off, our heroine had just arrived at FRFF...ah yes.
We set up, folks started rolling in, lots of hugs were had, etc. We had to get Emily G. at the Albany airport at 11:45. Then she called to say her plane was delayed, it'd probably be more like 12:30. We got to the airport, which was a very complicated drive - you have to take like seven exits just to stay on 87 - and waited for a while. She finally did get there at 1:45am. At this point, neither Jer nor I had had more than 3 hours continuous sleep in the past two days. Emily volunteered to drive home, which tired Jer and I readily accepted. We managed to get on the road going the wrong direction, but I'll have you know that for once in my life, I was RIGHT about the way we needed to go. But no one listened to me, given my track record. Oh well.
We finally got back to the camp just before 4am. I was up before 7am the next day, again not getting any sleep. When Emily woke up, we introduced her to everyone and the festival was underway. I gave her the grand tour, we ate yummy vendor food, and browsed hippie clothes and liberal bumper stickers. I went to a bit more mainstage music this year than I have in years past - on Thursday we saw David Buskin, John Gorka, Winterpills, and Shawn Colvin. Halfway through Shawn Colvin's set, Emily and I got up and left - we decided that she was arrogant and annoying and we still don't like her any more than we did when she was hogging Hanson's airwaves back in '96. :)
When we got back to the camp, Trung, Bill, Alex, and Seth were there with their instruments out. Seth was new this year, and when I introduced myself as Jeremy's wife, he decided he would like me. Jer spent the majority of his time at the fest keeping the flow of alcohol going. Everyone loved his blue margaritas, especially. Emily went to bed, but I stayed up and sang with the guys for a few hours before heading to bed myself. Jer went to the Budgiedome that night while I was sleeping and there he discovered Eric Schwartz. On Friday, Jer and I spent a metric fuckton (we decided it weighs the same as a shitton, but is better) on CDs. Jer played two Eric Schwartz songs for me - "Keep Your Jesus Off My Penis" and "Clinton Got a Blowjob." I was hooked. How this guy got booked on the KIDS' stage, I'll never know, but I checked him out there on Sunday and loved him. Definitely the top new artist of this year's fest. Anyway.
We went swimming on Friday, then caught Crooked Still and Tracy Grammer on the mainstage as well as a couple of workshops that day. It was after Crooked Still's encore that I decided the sets are way too short at FRFF. I could've listened to them all night...Tracy, too. I got some good videos with my digital camera from these shows, and the sound quality is actually quite good. I have no idea how to host videos online, though, so you'll have to ask me for these in person, I think.
After Tracy's set, I came back to the camp to find everyone drinking and Jeremy making cookies. When I say cookies, what I mean is he dumped four entire pre-mixed cookie dough things into some pans and cooked them over a fire. Jill had bought some Chardonnay at the store because it was Falcon Ridge brand wine, but I was the only one at the camp who liked white wine, so I was asked to drink the whole bottle. I had more than half before cutting myself off. At this point, I was very, very drunk, and I had the drunk munchies. Jer gave me all the uncooked cookie dough that didn't fit in his cookie pan, and I shudder to think how much of that shit I ate. Normally, I don't even like to eat cookie dough, but I was hungry. I also ate a whole tray of cheese and lots of wheat thins. About half an hour after finishing my wine, I decided I'd go to sleep. On the floor of the lobby at Bill's feet while he led a song circle on his guitar. Now, is it still passing out if you make the decision to sleep? One of the other campers woke me up when she realized I was shivering violently, even though it was warm out and I had layers on. It was then that I started feeling, well, not good.
I've never thrown up from drinking before, and while I've never been one to handle my alcohol well, I've been able to pound more than half a bottle of chardonnay before without any trouble. Everyone has their theories about what made me sick that night, but I blame the cookie dough. Some blame the liquor, Jer says I was dehydrated/sunsick. Whatever. I sat around for the next two hours not willing to go to bed because I was too afraid I'd puke all over myself in bed. I also really, really, really didn't want to throw up. But I knew it was coming. Somewhere around 3am, all the wine, cookie dough, cheese, and crackers came back. I don't think I've ever felt worse in my life than in the hours leading up to puking, and I don't think I've ever felt better than after I was done hurling. I puked a lot. And I haven't had any alcohol since then. It was only a few nights ago, but I think it might be a long time before you get white wine in me again. I mean, I don't think it was the drinking that made me sick, but I do think I could've held down all the food if not for the alcohol. We'll see if my attitude changes about wine as this memory fades.
Saturday morning, I realized just how sick I'd been when every single person in the camp checked on me and asked me how I was feeling. I must've looked pretty awful the night before. Oh well, I'm better now. I felt like an ass, but it happens.
Saturday brought rain that didn't let up until Sunday afternoon. I skipped a couple of things I'd planned to see because I didn't feel like sitting out in the muck, but I still caught Robbie at the kids' stage, a workshop with Crooked Still, the high test contras at the dance tent (as a spectator only - not that good yet!), and EFO's mainstage set. Dan Bern closed Saturday night, and I'd been wanting to see him for years. I love Dan Bern, and I've gotta say I was more excited to see him than anything else about the fest this year. Unfortunately, the rain was so bad, and it was so cold, that I only managed to tough it out through half his set. It was the best half a set I saw all weekend, though. My crush is ever raging, and I can't wait to see him again, hopefully someplace dry next time.
On Sunday, we went to the Gospel Wakeup Call, then Jer drove Emily to the airport while I shopped all afternoon at the hippie vendors. There wasn't room enough in the car for all of us to go to the airport together, which was fine with me, because I hadn't spent anything close to my full budget, and that cash was burning a hole in my pocket. I bought some bumper stickers, CDs, some jewelry made out of forks and spoons, a skirt for myself, and a Native American poncho for Lucy. I didn't spend too much and I was quite pleased with my acquisitions.
Jer and I decided to leave on Sunday instead of staying the night, lest we tempt fate and get caught in even worse rain and mud than we were already dealing with. All of our stuff got disgustingly muddy and wet, and we're still sorting through it now. It's either in the wash or on our front lawn drying out right now. There's so much shit to go through, it's really daunting. But we'll manage, and we'll do it all again next year, because I live for Falcon Ridge.
More details with pictures to come, eventually.
Peace.
We set up, folks started rolling in, lots of hugs were had, etc. We had to get Emily G. at the Albany airport at 11:45. Then she called to say her plane was delayed, it'd probably be more like 12:30. We got to the airport, which was a very complicated drive - you have to take like seven exits just to stay on 87 - and waited for a while. She finally did get there at 1:45am. At this point, neither Jer nor I had had more than 3 hours continuous sleep in the past two days. Emily volunteered to drive home, which tired Jer and I readily accepted. We managed to get on the road going the wrong direction, but I'll have you know that for once in my life, I was RIGHT about the way we needed to go. But no one listened to me, given my track record. Oh well.
We finally got back to the camp just before 4am. I was up before 7am the next day, again not getting any sleep. When Emily woke up, we introduced her to everyone and the festival was underway. I gave her the grand tour, we ate yummy vendor food, and browsed hippie clothes and liberal bumper stickers. I went to a bit more mainstage music this year than I have in years past - on Thursday we saw David Buskin, John Gorka, Winterpills, and Shawn Colvin. Halfway through Shawn Colvin's set, Emily and I got up and left - we decided that she was arrogant and annoying and we still don't like her any more than we did when she was hogging Hanson's airwaves back in '96. :)
When we got back to the camp, Trung, Bill, Alex, and Seth were there with their instruments out. Seth was new this year, and when I introduced myself as Jeremy's wife, he decided he would like me. Jer spent the majority of his time at the fest keeping the flow of alcohol going. Everyone loved his blue margaritas, especially. Emily went to bed, but I stayed up and sang with the guys for a few hours before heading to bed myself. Jer went to the Budgiedome that night while I was sleeping and there he discovered Eric Schwartz. On Friday, Jer and I spent a metric fuckton (we decided it weighs the same as a shitton, but is better) on CDs. Jer played two Eric Schwartz songs for me - "Keep Your Jesus Off My Penis" and "Clinton Got a Blowjob." I was hooked. How this guy got booked on the KIDS' stage, I'll never know, but I checked him out there on Sunday and loved him. Definitely the top new artist of this year's fest. Anyway.
We went swimming on Friday, then caught Crooked Still and Tracy Grammer on the mainstage as well as a couple of workshops that day. It was after Crooked Still's encore that I decided the sets are way too short at FRFF. I could've listened to them all night...Tracy, too. I got some good videos with my digital camera from these shows, and the sound quality is actually quite good. I have no idea how to host videos online, though, so you'll have to ask me for these in person, I think.
After Tracy's set, I came back to the camp to find everyone drinking and Jeremy making cookies. When I say cookies, what I mean is he dumped four entire pre-mixed cookie dough things into some pans and cooked them over a fire. Jill had bought some Chardonnay at the store because it was Falcon Ridge brand wine, but I was the only one at the camp who liked white wine, so I was asked to drink the whole bottle. I had more than half before cutting myself off. At this point, I was very, very drunk, and I had the drunk munchies. Jer gave me all the uncooked cookie dough that didn't fit in his cookie pan, and I shudder to think how much of that shit I ate. Normally, I don't even like to eat cookie dough, but I was hungry. I also ate a whole tray of cheese and lots of wheat thins. About half an hour after finishing my wine, I decided I'd go to sleep. On the floor of the lobby at Bill's feet while he led a song circle on his guitar. Now, is it still passing out if you make the decision to sleep? One of the other campers woke me up when she realized I was shivering violently, even though it was warm out and I had layers on. It was then that I started feeling, well, not good.
I've never thrown up from drinking before, and while I've never been one to handle my alcohol well, I've been able to pound more than half a bottle of chardonnay before without any trouble. Everyone has their theories about what made me sick that night, but I blame the cookie dough. Some blame the liquor, Jer says I was dehydrated/sunsick. Whatever. I sat around for the next two hours not willing to go to bed because I was too afraid I'd puke all over myself in bed. I also really, really, really didn't want to throw up. But I knew it was coming. Somewhere around 3am, all the wine, cookie dough, cheese, and crackers came back. I don't think I've ever felt worse in my life than in the hours leading up to puking, and I don't think I've ever felt better than after I was done hurling. I puked a lot. And I haven't had any alcohol since then. It was only a few nights ago, but I think it might be a long time before you get white wine in me again. I mean, I don't think it was the drinking that made me sick, but I do think I could've held down all the food if not for the alcohol. We'll see if my attitude changes about wine as this memory fades.
Saturday morning, I realized just how sick I'd been when every single person in the camp checked on me and asked me how I was feeling. I must've looked pretty awful the night before. Oh well, I'm better now. I felt like an ass, but it happens.
Saturday brought rain that didn't let up until Sunday afternoon. I skipped a couple of things I'd planned to see because I didn't feel like sitting out in the muck, but I still caught Robbie at the kids' stage, a workshop with Crooked Still, the high test contras at the dance tent (as a spectator only - not that good yet!), and EFO's mainstage set. Dan Bern closed Saturday night, and I'd been wanting to see him for years. I love Dan Bern, and I've gotta say I was more excited to see him than anything else about the fest this year. Unfortunately, the rain was so bad, and it was so cold, that I only managed to tough it out through half his set. It was the best half a set I saw all weekend, though. My crush is ever raging, and I can't wait to see him again, hopefully someplace dry next time.
On Sunday, we went to the Gospel Wakeup Call, then Jer drove Emily to the airport while I shopped all afternoon at the hippie vendors. There wasn't room enough in the car for all of us to go to the airport together, which was fine with me, because I hadn't spent anything close to my full budget, and that cash was burning a hole in my pocket. I bought some bumper stickers, CDs, some jewelry made out of forks and spoons, a skirt for myself, and a Native American poncho for Lucy. I didn't spend too much and I was quite pleased with my acquisitions.
Jer and I decided to leave on Sunday instead of staying the night, lest we tempt fate and get caught in even worse rain and mud than we were already dealing with. All of our stuff got disgustingly muddy and wet, and we're still sorting through it now. It's either in the wash or on our front lawn drying out right now. There's so much shit to go through, it's really daunting. But we'll manage, and we'll do it all again next year, because I live for Falcon Ridge.
More details with pictures to come, eventually.
Peace.
