I went to a music festival in the mountains this weekend and it was beautiful. I spent time with amazing people and laughed so much and sat on a hill looking at the stars, and I danced my face off to fantastic music and had virtually no contact with the outside world for three days. We camped on an incline so I kept rolling off my air mattress onto the rocks, and then I went down a makeshift slip'n'slide on the third day, and consequently my ass hurts. At the end of the weekend the organizers made a bonfire with a big, bald tree and we got to write down memories we wanted to burn and stick them on the tree branches. Among other things I burned my ex-boyfriend, and it was surprisingly cathartic. It was the last festival at that location and it was bittersweet; they're moving closer to my hometown and the festival is on hiatus for 2017 while they figure that out. It'll be nice to not have to drive four hours to get there, but it's sad to see them move off that beautiful farm. The owners are amazing people and they love music so much and every time I saw them they hugged me or danced with me or gesticulated wildly about how amazing the group that was currently performing sounded. We were all sweaty and dusty and gross and so happy, and it's been hard adjusting to being back in the real world.
