Day 13: Excitment

I’m a slacker, I know.

I did write that random piece yesterday though, so while I wasn’t working on the challenge necessarily, I did write.

Anyway.

Day 13: What are you excited about?

So. My music festival is less than a week away! Of course that’s my point of excitement at the moment. 30 bands will be playing over 3 days, and I probably want to see 95% of them. Plus it’s a combined music/tattoo festival – Inkcarceration Festival is being held at the Ohio State Reformatory in Mansfield, Ohio to be exact. Music. Tattoos. History. What’s not to like?

It was in the middle of this lasts years polar vortex that the decision was made to go – tickets bought with hotel accommodations, parking pass purchased. It didn’t seem to be a reality at that time, freezing in temperatures lower than I’ve ever experienced before. I joined the Facebook fan page and followed the Facebook page for the event. . . And then life went on. I had only gotten strep throat at one concert at this point, and seeing that many of my favorite bands were playing the event made it a no brainier.

The event got closer and I requested the days off work I would need to travel and attend. And then reality hit.

I had gotten strep at every concert since September 2018 except two. It was smack dab in the middle of July. I have never been to a music festival before. And I had agreed to share a room with three people and two beds.

What in the actual fuck was I thinking?!

I don’t like sharing a room with anyone, let alone a bed. I walk outside and break out in a sunburn – and a rash on my arms if I forget to apply sunscreen. I hate hot weather. I’m terrified of new places. I have two kids and my brother to worry about for the essentially 4 days I’ll be gone. I don’t like driving the expressway. I don’t like talking to people or being talked to in the morning. The crowd. The drunk people. The shared outdoor bathroom situation. The shared hotel room bathroom situation. The thought that its a gathering of many people and random acts of violence occur often anymore in such a setting.

Queue anxiety.

I couldn’t lose out on the experience -or the money I had paid – basically because there will be some quite uncomfortable situations present.

So I made a plan for my kids. I planned to talk to brother and let him know what I was going to be doing. After all, he’s an adult who lives every day on his own without me being right there, he can survive a weekend, right? I let my roommates know that I’d be bringing a blow up mattress to sleep on, and that despite my fear of the expressway I wouldn’t be car pooling in case an emergency happened at home and I needed to leave. I mapped out the alternative route minus the expressway – I’m still on the fence which way I’ll be driving, by the way – I bought a large water bottle and SPF 100 sunscreen, some airborne and other germ killing products to keep me safe from the ick that is bound to be floating around such a large event. I tried out going to a couple concerts last week here in town since my doctor provided me with a temporary fix for my ailment, and only came out with a slight cold and scratchy voice.

I controlled what I could. The rest is up to fate, I suppose.

Deep breaths. This will be the experience of a lifetime. I’ll be just fine. And oh Lord, the music . . .

I’m going to see so many bands and hear so much music. I’m going to get to tour the Reformatory. I’m going to gain life experience.

So, I’m excited. Nervous, but excited.

I’ve spent the last two weeks shopping here and there to have the proper attire for 85+ degree heat. I know flip flops and sandals are gonna be a no go and I hate shoes, so that’s been an adventure. I hate my hair blowing in my face, so I needed a plan for that. I’m bound to lose or break my single pair of sunglasses, so I needed more. I normally wear layered tank tops but knew that wasn’t gonna fly, so that was a whole other conundrum. It’s been exhausting just preparing for it. But my suitcase is mostly packed. Now to just nail down a few loose ends, and I’ll be headed on my first vacation in my adult life.

I will likely come home sunburnt, a little deaf, a little dehydrated, with no voice and perhaps a new tattoo. And with a helluva story to tell.

Happy Sunday, folks. Don’t let a little fear keep you from experiencing life.