BPG

Put this in your “cultural degradation” pipe and smoke it.

So, in order to keep myself out of name dropping trouble, I am only going to say the name of one person in this post. That person, of course is Martin Solveig… Because he is just incredible. Okay, let me recount my weekend and make you jealous.

This might be hard to do without names, but fuck it.. I’ll give it a go anyway.

So I’d been counting down to Creamfields for roughly … 80 days. As soon as I found out Martin Solveig was going to be there… My world changed. 

Those 80 days slowly passed, and then came the day that the set times were released. Looking through list, a massive surprise came to me when I saw that someone I knew was playing at the main stage. Until this time (about a week before the festival) I hadn’t the slightest idea they were going to be there. I don’t really know if I was more excited or nervous… Quite possibly more nervous contemplating the fact that they might not contact me while they were over here.

Anyway, after the whole “being a girl and stressing out about the worst case scenario for no reason” I was in fact contacted and offered tickets for the festival. Awesome. Then after almost a week of nervousness about seeing them (which led to most likely the biggest social fail of my life… But more about that later) it was Sunday and then it was 2PM and we were there. 

I went to pick up my tickets from the door list and to my ultimate excitement I learned they were (unable to buy) VIP. 

My friends set was incredible (as if it would ever be anything less) and the rest of the day was great, a lot of the music wasn’t my total preferred type but was still awesome. 

Martin Solveig was on at 5. That gorgeous, gorgeous man amazed me just like I knew he would. 

Absolutely loving life at this point, but still to say hello to some people, I was content that I’d seen what I’d waited 80 days for and cruised along with whatever for the rest of the festival. And even though I was checking my phone for messages from people about once every 5 minutes, I managed to keep loving life.

Maybe it was that on top of everything, I had a lot of compliments of my signature festival look, feather eyelashes. There is nothing better than wearing feather eyelashes to a festival. Except maybe knowing what was to come after the festival?

Finally got a chance to meet up with friends I hadn’t seen in a while, (which is where that huge social fail comes in to play) and in disbelief of my shocking conversational skills at that time, threw the towel in and got out on the grass and danced to the remainder of Deadmau5’s set with my gorgeous friends.

Hearing that there was an afterparty at Birdees upstairs for DJs and the like with a ten thousand dollar bar tab — anyone who knows me knows that in some way or another, I would get myself there.

Me at a private party with the Creamfields DJs and free drinks? Pretty sure this was destined to be one of the best nights of my life. We got ourselves on the invite list to the party, and from that moment the night kept outdoing itself. 

Doing shots with headlining DJs from the festival, getting very trashy in style, continuing to get compliments on my lashes (from people you are very happy to get compliments from!), meeting more and more famous people, drinking a hell of a lot… And then this.

The moment of my night. Weekend. Month. Anything.

Martin Solveig was there. Right there, a meter away from where I was standing. Needless to say, my heart was beating at about one million beats per minute.

So I did what I knew how. I laughed and smiled and fluttered the lashes as innocently as possible when he looked my way. And as perfectly as it could possibly have been, he came over to me and introduced himself. 

Speechless, smiling from ear to ear, telling myself this was really happening; that was about as far as the story goes but that was damn good enough for me. I actually met him! All the people I met last night were incredible. All the people I fuss over and appreciate were there and I met them. 

On a less ecstatic and more reflective note, how the hell I ever got lucky enough to meet the people who give me the opportunity to do things like this and introduce me to all the people there… I have no idea. I don’t deserve to do things that make me so happy but I still get to do them. Days and nights like this I will never, ever take for granted!

This is my life and I love it and some people are haters, but I could not care less.

I’ll be running around in festival couture complete with feathers on my eyelashes for a long time to come yet and getting excited about DJs and dancing for hours on end and the more people give me shit for it the more I will do it. 

Screw you Anon, I’m having the fucking time of my life.

party hard lovers xxx

PS. This story sounds a lot more tame when I don’t name drop. But I know who exactly the people were and that’s what’s important I guess ;)