how to survive a music festival

1. Be prepared. This is a critical step. For example, if you do not pack until the last minute, you will hate your outfits and subsequently every picture taken of you. If you're me, you remedy this by shopping the day before your trip and wearing your new clothes both nights. If you are Julia, you prepare by making a color-coded excel spreadsheet of all the festival bands and showtimes. If you are Liz, you do the math and pump your body with enough insulin to ensure that you will remain living through the weekend. Afterall, no one wants a vacation at bernie's scenario. Not by accident, anyway.

2. Be willing to try new things. That may mean tasting things that aren't just a plain cheese sandwich or a cheeseburger. 

3. Be available. Because 9 times out of 10 you will get separated from your group and will be left to fend for yourself in the mass of sweaty, swaying bodies. Also, you might want to tipsy text or chat your husband, friend or pet cat.

4. Be tall, or thrifty at least. This is probably the most important step. But, if you're like me, God gave you a stumpy torso that puts you in at around 5'5''. If that's the case, squeeze your way to the front-ish using any means necessary - crawling between legs, walking behind the garbage cans, bursting through hand-holding couples like it's a game of red rover, etc. 

5. Be fun. Nothing is worse than someone who isn't willing to let loose at a music festival. And if someone is getting too loosey goosey to the sonic flood, enjoy instead of judge. You're the one missing out. (With fun, comes being respectful to your neighbors. Double check to make sure they don't mind that you're screaming David Grey "Sail Away" in octaves unrecognizable by the human ear.)

6. Be responsible. If you're going to have a big ol' blast, be ready for recovery. For us, this included lots of water, downing the biz (aka pink glory, aka target brand pepto) and eating a big breakfast. 

What I'm trying to say is, I had a wonderful weekend at Basillica Block Party. Great company, great music, great stories. Someone biffed it on the sidewalk walking home, someone drank their own contacts in the middle of the night and someone actually peed their pants. How could I have a bad time? 

come as you are

ok. i swear pictures from my big little summer adventure are coming soon.

until then, here's a little something to pretty up your day. 

take that, lawrence "chunk" cohen

Haaay-ooooh!

I'm sitting in a hotel chair at the Hotel Al Bustan in Beirut. After spending the day laughing it up with my family, my sibbies and I are getting ready to go eat with our dad and cousins Hanadi and Nana. Don't you worry, I'm still stuffed to the brim from this gluttonous trip, but if I don't eat my sixth meal for the day, how ever will I nail down my near-perfect rendition of the truffle shuffle?

Anyway, as I mentioned in the last post, we've been sampling wonderful Lebanese eats and sweets non-stop. I would say our next meal will be no different, but I'm not sure that's totally accurate. Because, apparently, tonight my family is going to get all Arab Fear Factor by feasting on local delicacies like lamb brain, stuffed animal stomach, eyeballs, and baby birds (bones and all!).

Should I give you some time to change your pants? If so, you're preachin' to the choir, wildcat. My legs have been perma-crossed since I found out about my impending food adventure. Shouldn't I be up for, like, half a mil to swallow these sorts of things? Yoikes! Of course, there's no guarantee that I'll actually try everything (see: baby birds, bones and all!), but at some point you have to have a sense of adventure. And then you have to have a dang quesadilla. Because it's 2004 and that quote is about two seconds away from maxing out its shelf life.

But back to 2011. My half-Irish body is burnt to a crisp. My half-Lebanese heart is maxed out on love. And my whole self is fairly certain that I'm mere hours away from vomiting in a public place for the first time since, oooh I don't know, the Cavalier Town Fair circa 1998.

Here's a tip: Never ride the Gravitron after indulging in America's favorite corndogs/minidonuts combo. Only bad things will come of this. Trust me.

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Update: Just got back to the hotel and the weird things in my belly include: lamb brain, raw red meat and a baby bird (bones and all!). Sadly, there were no eyeballs on the menu, or I'm sure I would've eaten those, too. I can feel your judgey eyes across the Atlantic. But, I'll have you know that my friends adventure, peer pressure and I had a great time. (Pictures to follow.)