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Creamfields, Buenos Aires, Argentina

24 November 2004

So it was November 13, 2004 and we all slept in as usual. I wanted to get up early go to the Japanese Garden in Palermo but the boys, of course, chose to sleep half the day.

I can see it now....my Saturday's of all the future dashed as my boyfriend curls up against my frame and pulls me into the perfect shape of a unidad. I love being wrapped up in Jeff. But, there is some desparation on Saturday mornings. You have one full day that is glorioiusly yours. There is no work day threatening you actions. There is no early schedule bedtime. There are no pains of stress or flush of To Do list's running through you head.

It's Saturday and the day is yours. Sure, sometimes there is a simple pleasure in sleeping late and just being a bum. I think sometimes your body needs that. BUT, it's also just a plain bummer when you know you've wasted your day. And I never get anything done on Sunday. It's just a scramble of movements that never complete into any real action.

But, as it was when we were in school, or when i lived on campus that summer...if I spent the Friday night with him....that meant I was sleeping half the Saturday in with him. Which isn't all bad. But it does pretty much throw your Saturday out ;)

So we slept in and finally rolled out of bed, probably dressed and ready around 2-3ish (yeah, I really meant sleep in!) We walked around a little, not doing too much. Another stroll down Florida street. Picked up some cheesy souvenirs for the road. Jeff was not feeling very well after we ate lunch. I knew too he was not happy with the window shopping (we had, already walked down Florida like five times already during the trip).

Finally we decided to go back to the hotel. Not much of a day. Did a little napping watching some good show on TV (it was in English, I don't remember the name but it reminded me of a cheesy WB show...except, it was good in a guilty pleasure sort of way. Felt like it was a new show/season too...). Did that, took a mini nap then got ready to go out.

It was slightly chilly and a bit drizzly but I really wanted to wear a skirt. I knew Creamfields would be casual...in the US this would be an all out alternateen/raver scene, with funked out get-ups and baggy/zippered pants. I wanted to look cute. Not too dressy, but not a slob. My jeans I had been wearing all week were really stretched out. Plus, they're so low rise...I feel like my crack is showing half the time. Then there was the rain factor. If it would pour down rain...and we're outside, do I want to be sloppy wet in a skirt or be dragged down by 100lb. jeans?

I wasn't sure if it was the smartest decision going with the skirt. I knew with that many people (60K tickets sold) it could definitely get hot...even though it was kind of cold out. Dancing in a skirt is fun too. It makes me feel feminine and pretty. Plus, I've got killer legs and i'm taller than anyone there so it's fun to show 'em off ;) Haha..

We do a short stop down at Cafe Plaza, our favorite restaurant, and get some empanadas (my favorite food now, j/k) and papas fritas. Head back to the hotel and try to see if the hotel people could read the tickets we have to see if we are allowed to bring cameras. Thankfully, we can. Both jeff and I want to take a ton of pictures.

So we climb in a cab and off we go.







Maxine has given us two rolls each. I have them stuffed in my bra. When we get to Puerto Madero we get out and it has begun to rain lightly. I realize then, that perhaps the flip flops I wore (which I figured could get muddy and I wouldn't not mind) may have been a terrible choice. My mind races to "mud volleyball" from the greek games where I had to walk home (30 minute walk) barefoot b/c my shoes had sunk into the darkness of the muddy pit and I could not get them out.

Better to abandon we all thought. That was a funny walk home...with many funny faces from the passing cars. Of course, I was covered in mud from head to toe...so I doubt they noticed, I was also barefoot ;)

Anyway, so here we all, walking towards a huge field and I think of all the many trampling, jumping feet and of the fields growing more sloppy by the hour between the heavy traffic and the rain and I realize I may have to go home barefoot. And while that was slightly awkward and funny when it happened oh back then....did I really want to take this walk of shame, entering my hotel, a nice little lobby--barefoot?!

Oh, well, I thought, nothing I could do now. I was aware, though, that not anyone else was wearing sandles of any sort. Few wore skirts, which I expected. Those who did wear skirts appeared to be more whored out. I was wearing a casual cord skirt--of decent length. Above the knee of course, but not butt bearing.

I admit, it was cold. It was raining. I did bring a hoodie but it was a tiny fitted one that did not do much to protect against the rain or cold. But, I promised myself before we left that I would not complain about being cold or b/c of the rain because I chose my outfit and I would have to live with it. We get through "security" (there's tons of people at the entrance, but they're getting everyone in so quickly, it's like cattle. No one is checking anything--except to make sure you have a valid ticket).

There are a LOT of people. Of course, that's what I expected but it's still a fun scene. Just all these people pouring in or pouring out. We arrived around 11:30pm. The fest had been going on since 3pm. I think we would have liked to get there earlier but for whatever reason it just didn't happen. I think we were shooting for 10pm but oh well. We look around but are not sure where the different DJs are playing. There are various tents along with the open arena at the main stage. Since no one speaks English we're all a little clueless about what's going on.

It's funny...you begin to hide your ignorance of the language by simply becoming mute. I don't know why, but I felt shameful not knowing how to speak Spanish there. I guess, b/c, everyone spoke it and I spoke so little...I don't know, I almost felt rude for even being there. I mean, no one gave me that impression at all, you just felt so isolated and silly for not being able to communicate. It's an interesting feeling. Plus, if I did ask someone if they spoke English...and they didn't, you just felt dumb for asking because then...they knew.

Haha, it was almost like you were exposed. Gotcha! You're a silly outsider and if we want to talk about you...we can! lol...no everyone was very nice and sweet but I guess you never know what's being said around you. I'm ready to take my first roll and get the show on the road but Jeff wants to get orientated first. I need to pee and figure it's better to get it done with rather than find ourselves in some cool show and have to leave to do it.

When you're in such a large space with so many people...you can pretty much say goodbye if you're trying to hook up with someone. Then again, it was interesting to see technology at its best. The cell phones were aplenty. But even then it would be hard to find someone. I'll meet you at that sign...that is somewhere in that field. The boys want to get water before they get all partied up.

So we find a mutual meeting spot. They get water and I go to the bathroom. Thankfully, there was not a long line. It did feel weird to be all alone, though. Similar to how I felt when I went to the post office and the boys were at the money exchange. With others your comfort zone is only slightly flared. You can bask in the strangeness as a group, but still be comforted by the jokes and laugher and smiles.

When it's just you...you kind of fall into that isolation again. Here I am surrounded by all these wonderful, young people that I would love to talk to--and I can't! I can't talk about DJs or where they're from, or how long they've been there. So I stand...clueless. I must have picked the wrong port-o-potty. There was no light inside the box. I felt around briefly...and no tp either. Great. I decide to take my roll and pull out two for the boys and put them in my pocket. I'm paranoid they're going to fall out since the hoodie is a poor excuse for a pocket but I don't want to have to go grabbing down my chest in front of everyone.

It is unfortunate because I'm trying to drip dry (without being too explicit) and I'm wearing a thong at that. Outside...I'm sure it's the rain, but I half feel like there's pee running down my legs.

Ahh. So feeling lonely, disgusting...and very not cute with my whole upper half consumed in a black hoodie tied tightly around my face I stand at a sign and wait for the boys. I tried to just stand there and look cool...but failed. People looked at me with that "ohh, she must be lost" look. Ha, and I guess that's probably what I was as I scanned the crowds in hope that I could see one of the boys.

I have a couple groups of guys come up to me, some who know broken English. It's funny, there always seem to be the "one" in the group of friends that knows the language. We talk a little and they try to get me to go into a nearby tent to dance. I would like to, but know I would never see anyone again if I did.

Finally, Karl comes around to take me back to Jeff. Apparently, getting water--or anything else to drink is madness. As with the streets of Buenos Aires, where the lines on the street to mark the lanes are just there for looks, there are no apparent lines for the concession. It is just one balled group of people, all scrambling for the same thing.

Mmm, water. Or redbull. Take your pick.

The boys are bitter about their drink-getting experience and it rubs off on me, mostly because, I just don't understand what they just went through.

We head over to a tent we think is the 'cream arena.' Jeff and I are sort of grumpy. I'm not too pleased that I'm carrying the camera bag (I didn't bring a purse...b/c I can't dance with something constantly slipping off my arm!). Plus, b/c the situation was so terrible they bought a lot of water. So now I had a "purse" on my shoulder, and two waters in my hand. If you're going to dance, I feel like you really need to commit. This goes back to my dance "theory" but when you look at people and they look goofy, I feel it's a lack of commitment to really feel the music.

If you're feelin it, I promise you will dance well. But, people hold back. They feel silly, self-conscious, or worried they're not doing it right. If you just feel it...you will do fine. It sounds so simple, and if you're shaking your head because, "no" you really can't dance I just don't believe it.

Of course, I guess that would depend on your definition of "good." Sure, there are people that just have a little more rhythm, those that can smoothly work their body into swinging, hip ways, BUT, we can all dance and look okay doing it. But, I just can't get into it when I have all this crap to hold.

So I can either look stupid and do the "two step" (shuffle back and forth on both feet) or nod my head to the music or I can simply refuse to do any of it all and look like I'm not in the right place.

I try my hardest to get in the right frame of mind and try to dance as best as I can with all the stuff I have to concern myself with. I am able to wrap the camera case strap around my waist, sitting low on my hips and I don't think it looks too bad. Check one. I quickly drink one bottle of water and remember that if you're thirsty...you're already dehydrated so I am simpy "hydrating" and not being wasteful by drinking so quickly. Check two.

So, I'm left with one bottle which I figure I should be gentle with but I am much freer to dance. Dance a little and then go out to the main arena where Oakenfold is playing. Jeff and I being the music snobs are disgusted he's playing such old music. Heck, if I know the tunes...they're really old.

We go back up to the main gate to meet up with the girls that Karl had met earlier in the week. I am happy to meet the girls and a few new faces. It definitely helps to have people to talk to and share the experience with. There is one girl, cute, petite and very blond. She is wearing a short black skirt, with stunted knee high boots (er, more like calf-high?) and black lacy tights.

I notice, many of the girls wearing funky tights with skirts. With funky shoes. Kind of like a twisted 80s theme or some sort. They also have stringy mullets. Well, not all stringy. It's kind of like a long hair with layers gone crazy look. So, a bit choppy. Everyone has bangs.

Sorry, sidetracked. Anyway, blondie...she keeps fixing my espanol. I should be happy that someone is helping me out but maybe it's the way she's doing it. I felt very put down. I liked her and she was very nice so I'm sure I was bringing it on myself, but I would just say something in jest and there she would be, rolling the r's that I did not, or getting me a more cutting "a" at the end of a word. Oh well...

Danced for awhile at the main arena then went into another tented area. We had finally found the real 'cream arena' earlier where the music was great. Jeff and I wanted to get back there (quick!) but the girls didn't want to and Karl wanted to stay with them. Finally, a bit after Jeff and I decided to just go. I'm sure Karl would be fine with the girls, and Jeff and I were both desparate to hear some good music.

At this point our rolls were failing us. It was about 3 hours later. I know they take awhile to kick in, but that is terrible. I give Karl his and Jeff and I are off. As we head towards the new tent people are just rushing there in a huge mass of people. At the tent's edge the place is jammed full.

I feel like I'm swimming through people--literally. It's so thick, that I think if I went perfectly horizontal, the friction between people would hold me up as a I crawled through little pockets of space that bodies did not contain. We slowly moved from one place to the next. The songs were AWESOME!! There was this one song where they mixed in a nirvana tune. Ah, and people try it all the time...mixing techno with "rock" songs and it usually sounds cheesy or awful. But this...I mean, it was crazy.

The whole place was so wild. That is a concert I thought! I'm not really a "fist puncher." As in, the person that pumps her fist into the air and yells "yeah!" But, I was that girl. We were all that person. It was that good. I was practically squealing with delight I was so excited with how into it everyone was.

When I'm in a club, I like to move around a lot. Mostly, because I don't drink I get bored very easily. Being sober can be awfully trying when everyone is all drugged up or drunk. But, I do enjoy the music (techo) and I love, love, love to dance. But I feed off other people's energy. So I go to one spot, check out the crowd around me, dance...then move on. All week I had been forced to just stick to one place. I don't know why, but the boys never wanted to move around.

Perhaps that's why everynight I was begging for them to let me take a taxi home by myself b/c I was plain bored. Let me see and people watch I was screaming inside! With so many of the clubs being so large I couldn't exactly wander around by myself exploring b/c I would never see Jeff again.

So especially at this field "venue" I couldn't go off on my own. But, without Karl around, I was free to pull the boy to different spots. I also like to get in the thick of the action. So we moved slowly through the pockets of people. And I admit, I like moving slickly through the crowd...all the bodies pushed together in one mass.

Perhaps because I'm slender...I like the way it feels sliding through all these tiny spaces passing in between people. It's almost like a game....how can I get through the crowd? Kind of like...when you're driving and you're not sure if the car coming at you will move to the side first or if you will. You have to be aggressive in the crowd if you want to control the direction you're moving (b/c the crowd is moving you). So...to move...each move is an accomplishment. It's not always pleasant. Sometimes, if you're in a crappy mood, the fact that 8 billion people are bumping up against you or touching you is disgusting and annoying.

But, the music was jamming, the crowd was friendly, there were no slimy boys trying to get up on me or wrapping their hands around my waists (as you american boys always do). Ah, techno music...where no one grinds..and the bigger and louder you move...the better!

At some point we are dancing and we meet "Paulo." Paulo is young twenty-something, probably a student and he's there with a group of friends. I don't remember where or when we met Paulo but...I'm glad we did. He was very sweet, generous and the prize--spoke English! We were introduced to all of his friends, mostly girls. They all have hard to pronounce names (foreign) and so I did not understand them as we were introduced. Unfortunately, the only girl's name I really caught was Annie. The girls were all very sweet and friendly as well. We also met "Fele" (how do you spell??) who was kind of the wild and crazy one. Always obliged to show his tongue ring off. ;)

We had at this time taken three rolls. The first was very dudly (can that be a word? :), the second...I felt it a little. But it was so shady I might not as well have taken any at all. I had given up on the roll...although I was admiring all the pot smokers around me and was about to flirt up some foreigner to obtain a drag. One of Karl's girls...friends knew of someone, who, yadda yadda and yeah, we had our third roll.

I've never taken more than 1 before...and even though the first 2 didn't really work, I'm sure they must have had something in them. The one thing that was "fah sho" was my energy level. I figured, even if I got some dirty speed pill I could be happy with that.

So, at this point, with Paulo and friends the 3rd roll finally kicked in. It was soft and smooth and barely noticable. There was a gentle "yes!" flooding through my veins that let me know that my seratonin (sp?) levels were increased b/c there's just something pleasantly...well happy about it all. It was different from other pills. Usually what I like best (besides the non-stop energy) is how I just ADORE everyone. I mean, I think everyone is my best friend and I can't wait to meet and greet them all. I also flirt like a maniac. Not to be all sexed up...just b/c, I don't know, it's just more fun, I suppose.

And flirt is not completely the right way. Sometimes, I think of flirting as this...well, I've said it before. It's like more than being friendly, but I don't know how to explain it. It's a kind of carefree, goofy, silly and charming way of behaving. It *is* flirting, but it's all in good fun. There is flirting like I want to jump your pants and there's flirting just to be playful. And you can flirt with people of both sexes without it being about sex. Does that make any sense?

Do you have a good word for this? Let me know in my guestbook.

So, I was not feeling that flirty way, but I did feel happy. I had a tiny body buzz...but sometimes, it feels like every tiny bit of your skin is tingling with expectation and just a slide of the finger down your arms is a rollercoaster of "oh yeah..." through your body. It's a great feeling....and it's a little druggy. I mean, you almost sink into the touch. Not sexual, but...it's almost like you are truly FEELING for the first time. Same thing with all sensations, it's all heightened.

I don't remember lights being especially "wow"--but since we were in a tent after all, it's not like the best light show was in effect. Flavor WAS though. I had this butterscotch sucker and oh god it tasted sooo wonderful. Kissing is also wonderful. It goes back to the touching sensation. Imagine REALLY, fully, experiencing all your touch sense can really feel and then mix in that druggy sinking feeling where you just release your body into the sensation and when that is a kiss. Whew, it's pretty darn good.

That's the kind of kiss that makes the world go black while you spin into some kind of wonderful.

So, we're rolling and enjoying our new friends. The girls are all very sweet and nice to me. There is one who looks like Chloe to me. She does NOT like her picture being taken so I sadly do not get any pix of her but she kind of takes me under my wing. She is there to make sure I am okay (feeling fine) and to make sure I am really okay (having the time of my life). She also laughs with me but lectures me to "suck harder" as I smoke a joint (I'm sure I look pretty clueless doing so) and laughs again as I smoke a cigarrette (as much as I hate smoking, wow does a cig. taste and feel so wonderful when you're rolling!!).

I feel like a 12 year old who has sneakily grabbed mom's pack of smokes. I don't know how to hold it or how to smoke it. I'm probably not even inhaling but part of it is just fun to have something in your mouth keeping you busy.

I grind my teeth like no tomorrow. I am ripping through pieces of gum and feel my insides gnawing on my cheeks. At one point with nothing in my mouth my teeth chatter--as if I had just been dunked in frigid water and was pulled out. It's crazy, "chatter, chatter, chatter...." --such a weird feeling to feel your body out of control like that.

But other than my teeth chomping like crazy I don't feel "messed up." I still feel most of all, the energy of it. But that maybe was just because of the environment. We are still dancing, dancing, dancing and enjoying ourselves. As the night goes on, the music gets better as Catanneo hits the stage. Paulo and friends continue to do a wide range of drugs. We join him in smoking pot and at some point sniffing something of some sort.

Jeff thinks it's cocaine, but Paulo explains it was a horse tranquilizer. Er, what?!

I don't think I really got any. It came out of this small folded piece of paper, delicately creased into a small square the size of a stamp. Inside such a small amount of powder. 3-4 people later I had some dust. I only did it once and can't imagine I actually got anything at that point. Jeff perhaps had a little more, but still...the amount on that little piece of paper. It looked so insignificant I can't imagine even one person getting anything out of it, let alone a split between 4 or more!

Dance, dance some more and I am just in happy town. There is one girl with the group. Very exotic looking and pretty. She is wearing these large glasses but looks like a model wearing the shades. She never smiles. I don't think she likes me. I worry now that perhaps my camera bag had been constantly hitting her as i swung my hips as I danced. Er, oops?

Myself...I have a smile so big I think I might have four sets of teeth showing the whole time. I have to actually remind myself to stop smiling b/c it's basically plastered on my face.

I'm sure part of it was the drugs. The other, I was having a good time. Plus, I couldn't help but smile when I stared into the crowd. I mean...it was just craziness all around and everyone was partying so hard. That's a good time!







There was one part in this song where it must have been saying something about "get low" b/c we followed along as this huge massive crowd began to lower and lower until we were all squatting on the floor (still dancing!) and then slowly moved back up. It was crazy to see so many people playing along and having a good time.

At this point the sun is beginning to rise. Faster and faster. There appears to be no one managing this festival b/c the crowd has slowly climbed the structure of the tent. There are people sitting on the bars and swinging from the insides. Just wild.

At some point the festival ends with our tent bringing it all to a close. With all of our ears ringing, people begin to stream out. It is probably around 7:30am at this point. I can still hear music dancing in my head. I don't want to leave our little group of friends. Our plane leaves at 8:30pm, our car to the hotel arrives at 5:30pm, we need to check out of our hotel at noon (or as I suggested, pay the $37 for an extra night and keep the room til 5:30).

It was early and I didn't want the fun to end. But, Jeff was ready to go or he seemed more panicky about getting back in time (relax, 5:30...I think we'll make it). Or maybe he was worried...about worrying Karl if we didn't show up. I don't know. Either way, I didn't have a good excuse for sticking so we said goodbye to our friends, took one last picture and we left.

It was raining outside. Not terribly hard, but hard enough you were definitly wet. There were a lot of people around and we knew there would be no way we could catch a taxi so we began to walk. Although I kept my shoes (the grounds were dirty but not slushy mud) on my feet were a disaster. It looked pretty gross I admit. Although the rain eventually rinsed me off, my legs were splattered with mud and even through the spanish I could see people staring and talking about the feet. Haha, oh well.

I wore the flip flops b/c I knew they would rinse clean plus they are absolutely the most comfortable things I've ever owned. I mean, I walked the streets of NYC for hours in them with no problem at all. Just super comfy and if I was going to be dancing all long I knew I wanted something that would be nice to the feet as the night before I had gone out in boots and my feet paid for it.

Now, without the body heat of a crowd, I was very cold. We were both...very cold. Completely soaked we walked for about an hour in the cold rain trying to get a cab. Although there were plenty around, they were all filled. At this point I was trying to have an out of body experience as I walked and meditated and tried to forget I was freezing, Jeff was able to get a cab.

Ahhh, that never felt so good to climb into a warm car, and to sit! That felt pretty good too for having been standing all night long.

Got back to the hotel and tried to do our walk of shame (very wet, and inappropriately dressed) as best as possible as we collected our room key from the front desk. Ran up to the room and hopped into a hot shower (yes!). Got clean and dressed into warm clothes then went down for breakfast.

I was hoping no one would talk to us because I'm sure we didn't look that great. A nice old lady (60ish) sat down beside us and started talking and talking. I tried to act as normal as possible but I could still hear music in my head...and after dancing for so many hours straight, I was having a hard time keeping my body still as I was still moving to an imaginary beat.

Got out of there and back to the room where karl joined us shortly. Poor guy, I guess he walked alone for an hour too, and into a not so great area but then finally got a cab himself.

We all crashed and fell asleep. I knew we should....I don't know, call the front desk to request an additional night or something but we didn't. We slept and slept. And even though I knew it was past noon...we continued to sleep. I wasn't sure what would happen. I figured worse case scenario we would be charged for an extra night but i didn't know legally if there was anything we could get in trouble for by not checking out on time.

Eventually, at 2:15 the front desk called and said if we left by 3 we wouldn't be charged the extra money. Decided to take the deal and we got up to pack and get out of there. We were all a little out of it. Went down for one last quick meal.

I thought I would try the steak but it once again came out bleeding (ugh). After that we went back to the hotel to wait in the lobby for our pick up.







It was sad to leave Buenos Aires. I really loved the city and the people. Plus, following such an incredible night it was hard to leave. Obviously, you can't have festivals like this everyday or else it wouldn't be so special, but it was still hard to leave.

Even though I was really tired I stayed awake pretty late so I could fall asleep on the plane at a decent time to sleep through the night. The flight back was fine.

When we arrived home on Monday morning I was feeling pretty cranky. Finally got picked up then dropped off at my house. Since it was mid-morning there was no one home.

Silence.

It was the strangest thing. I had been with people constantly for the last 10 days and then all at once I was thrown into this home. It was terrible, having to come back to my parents. Not that my parents are horrible...but it was so GREAT not having to worry about what your parents think.

I am 23 years old. I shouldn't have to fear the "wrath of mom" all the time. I shouldn't have to worry about dumb arguments or feel sick to my stomach if I get home late and "didn't call to say I'd be late." I shouldn't have to be guilt tripped into doing things just because i live here.

Obviously, by living at home I have been given a different opportunity. To really save my money and continue to be spoiled. I do appreciate what they've done for me but probably not as much as I should. I can't help it. At least right now...I think my 'rents are happy I'm living at home...they don't want me to leave!!

But it doesn't make me feel any better. Sure, I'm glad they want me, but if they didn't I would have my own place. I really want to move. I mean, I did before, but coming back and being here it made me realize how great freedom really was.

So, that's the end to my Buenos Aires trip. I regret not getting contact info from all the great people we met. Or taking the time to really thank those that helped us out. I may never see BA again, but if I do, many years later it will be fun to remember all the places we went and experiences we had.

So...eleven pages later. That's it. Hope you enjoyed reading and filtering through my thoughts as much as I enjoyed living it!






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