Woodstock meets PsychoPalooza

First off, let me tell you what a good guy the BF could be (this has been edited to reflect a bit more of the truth of my feelings here)..... No, really...lol. After driving almost three hours in the great monsoon of June 2006 and finally arriving where we were supposed to camp - I found him. Mind you - the ride, not finding him upon arrival, not knowing other people there...I was kinda..well...bitchy. Even when he told me he got us a room at a bed and breakfast for the weekend...hey..wait..umm...lemme stop bitching for a minute...did you say....BED? and...BREAKFAST? So I won't be cold, wet, or hungry? ALRIGHT! So, we settle in..and get to drinkin'! Turns out that 2 of the musicians at this music festival know my best drummer friend. One of them had actually wanted him to come up and play at it, but he couldn't do it. And the world gets smaller...

Friday night - uneventful. Long, buzzy, but uneventful. (Insert calm before the storm cliche here)

Saturday - Waking up with a mild hangover, greeted with a breakfast of blueberry pancakes and sausage. (I should mention, I hate pancakes. I hate sausage.)We head over to the festival site, where I had left CrazyBitch and her boyfriend - whom we'll call the Ripper. The Ripper felt the need to notify EVERY..SINGLE...PERSON there that he had done time. 1. They didn't care. 2. They were not impressed. 3. This is why when he was screaming that he was going to stab the guy who pissed on CB's truck - it didn't go over so well. But, I'm getting ahead of myself here....

Sooooo...with my liver Olympics in full swing lately, I decided we should get a keg. Easy enough here - not so much up in East BooFoo Maine. "Uh, you need to special order those"...."Nope, the BrewMaster is off today"....well hell! Eventually, we found one. After 2 hours of driving, stopping, asking, etc.

To be continued

* why this was never continued..... I don't talk to her anymore. I broke up with him. It seems like it would be more an excercise in painful history to discuss this weekend anymore. Suffice it to say that she hasn't spoken to me since then - and it's not particularly my fault. He and I were done before this ever happened...but neither of us would acknowledge it. *