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sophiesaysweb-blog · 9 years ago

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Frisky at a Festival.

**Warning this blog post is quite lengthy – but I hope it will be worth the read.**

**I would also like to point out that some of the stuff discussed in this blog post are up for debate, so please feel free to comment and have your input.**

So now that I have gotten into the swing of writing my blog posts, I feel like I need to share more. Not that I’m hiding anything as such, but I feel like I’m starting to gain a momentum, so I would like to keep this up. This post is the second blog post in my ‘festival saga series’. Last night I published about my accidental flashing incident amongst the crowd. (You can read that blog post here.) Today, things get a bit more intimate. Intimate you ask? Surely not as intimate as displaying your bra to 5,000 people? No, not quite, but a different level of intimacy. An awkward, confusing level of intimacy. Let me explain…

The second day of the festival was going great, really great. Everyone was in good spirits, we were all looking forward to the main acts of the night, and we were having the ‘standard festival experience’, by having a few alcoholic beverages by lunch time. It was all good.

Then the evening came, and this is where things get interesting. We were at this concert and a group of very drunk girls stood in front of us, and began dancing. Now, if you’ve EVER been to a festival/concert, this is festival 101 – it’s expected to happen at LEAST a million times. Your expected reaction? Just look at them intensely for about a second but then get on with it. It’s not the end of the world. “Does she ever get to the point?” You’re probably wondering, and the answer is yes I do.. but I’m like Ted Mosby in How I met your mother, I take my time. I like to give a back story. Everything is relevant.

As I was saying, these girls were particularly drunk, and very annoying. They kept dancing about two inches away from our faces, they were messy and they pretended to sing drunkenly along to the lyrics of the songs.That was all well and good, but there was one girl in particular who was just purely obnoxious. While she was trying to get ‘the feels’ from the concert, she fell right back onto my friend. At this point, my friend was already pretty pissed with these girls as they had zero respect for general concert etiquette and the surrounding people in general.* (*I’m not saying there is an expected etiquette that everyone must comply to, I’m not the Queen – but just have some respect, at the end of the day everyone is there to have a good time.)

So she fell back onto my friend, and as an immediate reaction, my friend pushed her forward. It was an expected reflex. It was either that, or they would both end up on the floor. But this girl didn’t see it like that. Instead, she lost it. She tried to start a fight with us by calling us ‘trash’ and ‘fucking bitches’. She was about to get physical. We all just stood there being like ‘wut?’ I suppose we were taken aback. Then, the pure gent who was standing next to my friend stood in and told the crazy girl to calm the f down. And this is where it all begins..

(For all of you at the edge of your seats, there was no girl on girl action. The girl stumbled away with her posse and we never saw her again… as for that boy… )

So this boy was a pure gentleman. Looking back you could say he was my friends ‘knight in shining armour.’ (If she ever found out I wrote that I would be dead!) They began to talk and they were really hitting it off. While this was going on, I see another guy next to Grant the gent. (This is what I’m going to call him from now on.) He seemed pretty shy – but I had noticed him dancing earlier on, so maybe he just thought the situation was awkward as his only friend was chatting up some random girl.

As I have already said a million times, I’m generally an awkward person. I can’t help it. I say ‘good’ when someone says ‘hello’- it’s just who I am. However when I’m out of my general “comfort” zone, I tend to become more confident. Yes it’s strange – I know. I guess it’s a fight or flight thing. So I approached him. He said he was with Grant and we introduced ourselves. Without getting too carried away, he was sex on legs. There was something very appealing about him. His hair, eyes, smile, the lot. Plus he was so lovely. (I’m getting half annoyed/half smitten writing this… You’ll soon learn why.) He wasn’t even your ‘typical hot guy’ but crikey I was trying to conceal my redness talking to him. (Thankfully we were in an indoor arena so it was pretty dim.)

However, our conversation ended quite abruptly as my friend wanted to get a drink. So we said our goodbyes and off I went with my friend and Grant to get a drink. Grant said he would meet Pastry later. (Sex on legs is going to be known as Pastry from now on.) I knew we had left quite abruptly but I took no notice of it. Pastry probably had somewhere to be and my friend was feeling a bit nervous so she needed a drink to help settle the nerves and remove any awkwardness. I thought no more of it. We got to know Grant and he seemed like a genuinely good, honest person.

Basically he was the exact opposite of a ‘fuckboy’. I liked him. He got my approval. Grant and my friend were really hitting it off, so I no longer felt like I needed to be there, so I let them be. (I’m forever a third wheel in life.. I’m pretty sure people know I am too. I must have a third wheel scent that people can pick up from me.)

Myself and my other friend decided to go to the last act of the night. Apparently he was a well-known DJ, but my god, he was awful. I’m no expert, but I’m pretty sure a DJ is meant to play music – not yell ‘RAISE THE FUCKING ROOF PEOPLE’ continuously at the crowd. So we decided to return to the rave tent we were at the night before. There was good music and a good atmosphere, so we couldn’t complain. So much so, once the music finished we didn’t want to go home. At this particular festival, you could roam freely between the campsite, the music area and the city itself – which I really liked. Therefore, I made the suggestion that we go into one of the local late night bars to keep the party going. It would be an experience – and that’s when we found Pastry. It was actually quite a shock to see Pastry. To be honest we had forgotten all about him. Turns out that time we went for a drink with Grant, Grant told Pastry he would be back in five minutes. We met Pastry three hours later, and he hadn’t heard anything from Grant. So we got talking to Pastry and we asked if he would like to go to the bar with us, and he said yes. (Sometimes I genuinely surprise myself on how well I can get on with strangers, considering anytime my family asks me a question, my general reply is: “um, well, er, ok, cool, yeah”, or something along those lines.) Although Pastry wasn’t from the place the festival was being held, he was from that general direction, so I trusted in which bar he would take us.

At this bar, we just had drinks and chatted. We talked about the usual – whether he was a pyschopath, was he planning to kill us etc. Luckily he was pretty normal. Things were going good and they got even better when this random guy came up to us and yelled “I WON’T LEAVE UNLESS YOU JOIN OUR TABLE”… and that’s how we met Dan. Dan is a pretty outrageous character, and we knew this as soon as we met him, as he was wearing a patterned animal onesie. He also had quite an eccentric haircut and multiple tattoos. One that stood out was his tattoo of the theory of evolution, but at the end was a picture of Darth Vader with a red lightsaber. I instantly liked Dan. We joined Dan and his table, so we now had a comfortable group of eight. Without getting too sentimental about the weekend, talking to all those people was a great laugh. That’s why I love leaving my homeplace for other places – you meet people who change your outlook on life, people who challenge you, and who are just genuinely decent beings. I probably will never see any of these people again, but they’re the type of people that you just hope will get on great in life and be truly happy.

We stayed in this bar until about 3:00am and we decided to go back to the campsite. However things were far from over. From talking to this bunch, they were pretty crazy. One in particular however seemed rather quiet, however I soon discovered that he was still incredibly hungover from the night before, that he could hardly function. (This was at 2:00am and he was still hungover. I also saw some pictures of him from the night before, and he looked unrecognisable, so I immediately understood why he was so hungover.) I also learned that none of the people from the group knew eachother up until that day. We were all at this festival in small groups of 2 that formed into a nice group of 8.

We went back to Dan’s tent and continued to chat. Some of us continued to drink – by some I mean only me and Pastry. * (*I’d like to point out that we weren’t drunk as neither of us had that much to drink.) We also were joined by more people, so it was good. We also hadn’t heard from Grant and my friend, and to be honest we didn’t want to know. “Leave well enough alone as they would say.” All I knew is that they were in the tent I was meant to be sleeping in. I didn’t want to be a third wheel again, so since Pastry now had room in his tent I asked could I stay with him.

I might point out that I was not expecting anything whatsoever out of this request, only a place to sleep. I would have asked anyone but I knew his tent had room. It was only logical. As you could probably guess, he said yes. Again I would like to point out I didn’t have any agenda, I just genuinely wanted somewhere to sleep. Also, I knew we wouldn’t get much sleep because as we were chatting at Dan’s tent when a group of people came over and asked us to come to their rave at their tent. I was quick to accept, as I really wanted the most out of this festival. The others were more reluctant, as I could tell they were about to pass out with tiredness – but Pastry accepted.

(At this point my other friend had left- she actually went to our tent that the others were in, but I didn’t want to go back – not yet.) So myself and Pastry went to the rave, and boy it was a rave. I loved it. There was only about twenty people at it, but there was a super loud speaker and everyone was chatting and dancing. The music that was playing was typical rave music, ie. house music. Normally I hate that genre of music, as I much prefer something with lyrics, but after the weekend, I’m a convert. The rave lasted until about 6:00am, when unfortunately the speaker died so we had to go.

Pastry asked me was I still sure about going back to his -and I didn’t give it a second thought. It still hadn’t clicked with me that my other friend would have been asleep in the other tent, and that I could have actually joined them, but I went back to his.

So there I was in his tent. It was miniature. The night had gone very cold and his tent didn’t have much insulation. (I’m trying to set a scene so you can get an idea of everything.) So yeah, it was cold. Then Pastry asked me did I want to get my sleeping bag from my tent. He didn’t ask me did I want to go to my tent, he asked me to get something from my tent and come back. Again, I’m a fucking idiot when it comes to boys, so even at this point I was oblivious to the signs. (Was there even signs? I don’t know. My friends said he seemed to be really into me, but who know’s? The sleeping bag scenario did seem like a blatant sign looking back at it now. But he was probably just being nice.) We were in the tent. Just the two of us.. it was intimate, but it was nice – even though it was freezing. Half of me was shaking because of the cold, but the other half was shaking due to sheer nerves. I never really get into these situations. This was as intimate as things have ever gotten for me.

Pastry suggested that we join our sleeping bags together as it was so cold – that was fine. Then he suggested we lay closer together to stay warm. I was also okay with that. I actually really enjoyed it. The warmth from his body was so nice. Everything about it was so nice, the way his arms wrapped around my waist, the warmth of his breath, both of us trying to sleep – but not being able to. Even thinking about it.. it was lovely. I couldn’t sleep as I was so fucking nervous, which is where my true personality decided to shine forth. We were both soaking wet because of the rain so the body warmth was honestly amazing.

Things got a bit more intimate when he took off his shirt. To justify that, it was really wet from the rain so it was only logical. (Even typing this I’m trying to justify every action to explain what happened next.. which I shouldn’t really. It’s not my fault.) The shirt was off. We were very close together. It was great. There was even one or two neck/hair kisses. Neck kisses. My weakness. I’m pretty sure I’m with a majority here when I say neck kisses are the best thing ever. Now there wasn’t a lot, but there was a few, and it didn’t last long. I just lay there pretending not to notice them. (Don’t ask me why – cause I don’t even bloody know.)

All of a sudden he says, “you’re a really good friend Sophie.” Friend. Not that anything had really happened, but I was still surprised. It was a pretty intimate place to be friendzoned if you ask me. I like to think that I’m really smooth, but in reality I’m the opposite. “Oh yeah.. er thanks Pastry…you are too.. you’re such a nice guy.” The awkwardness in my opinion had peaked. Was I meant to move over? Was I meant to stay with him? Was that a signal for me to leave? I didn’t know. I was overthinking this and rightly so.

“It’s so good to have such good friends that are girls when you have a girlfriend.”Girlfriend. GIRLFRIEND?! GIRLFRIEND!?!?!?!?!?! THE GUY HAD A FUCKING GIRLFRIEND!!!!! I froze. My heart stopped a little bit. I was ok with being friendzoned, but this was something totallydifferent. I was lying next to someone who had a girlfriend. I know nothing happened, other than lying extremely close to each other.. but I’m almost certain that if you’re in a relationship with someone, you shouldn’t share sleeping bags with someone. Now I’m no expert in relationships, I’m far from it, but I’m pretty sure that there is some sort of unwritten rule. My reply to this? “Oh cool…..cool….cool…” (Cue a longggggg pause.) Then it suddenly hit me.. “Pastry, do you really have a girlfriend?!”

We lay there in silence for what seemed like an eternity. In reality it was probably only twenty seconds. The silence was broken by him saying that he needed to pee. Not going to lie, I was relieved as I was about to wet myself. Also, the tension/awkwardness was obvious. I needed to get out. So he left and I was all alone. I tried to gather myself. I threw on my coat and boots and ran to the bathroom as well. I needed to comprehend what had just happened. So I went bathroom and when I returned he was outside the tent wondering where the fuck I went. I had never been so relieved to see the time. It was 8:00am. “I think I’ll go back to my tent”, I said trying to be cool and casual. “It’s nearly time to get up so I might as well go in with the girls and sleep for an hour and get ready.” “Oh..yeah.. that’s.. cool.. I’m up for the day now because if I fall asleep, I won’t wake up. I’ll just go for a shower and get some coffee. You know it’s not a good idea to go to sleep and wake up after an hour” he said. “No, no. It’s cool. I’m certain. I’ll go back to my tent.” I said trying to remain casual. In reality my voice was breaking. He was right about the last part. It wasn’t a good idea to go to sleep, but I had to go back to my tent. I get back to my tent and trip over someone’s foot, so I made quite an entrance. “Sophie what are you doing back?” “What time is it?” “Oh it’s only 8:00am I’m going to bed now guys.. nighttttttt.” The whole tent looked at me as if I had two heads. “Sophie, it’s nearly time to get up.” “Yes, nearly. Not yet. I’ll be fine.” I was in the middle of the tent between three people, lying on someones rucksack. There wasn’t really much room for me and I was freezing as I had no sweater or quilt to throw over me. I also had no one’s body heat. I fell asleep for all of an hour, when I heard a knock on the tent. It was Pastry. He had gone for his shower and had gone to the shop. He had come to us with breakfast. He was looking so good and fresh, while I, on the other hand, looked like a piece of shit. I pretended that the happenings a couple of hours previous had not happened. ‘Play it cool Sophie’ I thought to myself. He was doing the exact same.

If anyone was to know the way into my heart, it was Pastry. This guy would have been the perfect man, only for the slighttt fact that he has a girlfriend. (Still not over it.) For breakfast Pastry brought croissants and bananas. croissants. All my closest friends will tell you that the key to my heart is through pastries, especially if I’m on my period. Pastry had brought croissants. I nearly jumped him. During my ‘sleep’ I also got my period, so I was pretty hormonal. I nearly cried with happiness. My friends presumed that something more had happened between us, so they were talking him up. “Could you be any more perfect?” was one of the things my friends said to him. “You’ve no vices.” I agreed with them in every aspect – except one. He had a girlfriend. As they were saying all of this, I was trying to hide my annoyance from the one big secret he was keeping. He had a fucking girlfriend.

I genuinely had a nice time with this guy but I still can’t comprehend the fact that he has a girlfriend. He didn’t mention her all weekend – bar that incident in the tent. That was theonly time. He mentioned his family and friends quite frequently, but never mentioned her. That’s why I still can’t understand this situation. I’m not sure I really ever will.

We spent more time together that day before he had to leave early for work. It was so lovely. Nothing happened, as we’rejust friends. When I told my friends this, they couldn’t believe it. They thought I was joking. They were convinced I was going to marry the guy. It was quite funny how wrong we all were. Then my friend said the truest thing I had heard all weekend. “If it’s any consolation to you Soph, this sort of thing would only happen to you.” I have never heard something more true. My life is one big disaster.

I feel like you’ve really gotten to know Sophie and her antics in this blog post. She certainly isn’t you’re standard girl. I apologise for the length of this post but I like to give the wholestory. There will be many more blog posts similar to this in the future – of stories that have happened, and of stories that are yet to come. There are quite a lot of tales to tell. Congratulations if you have read to the end(!)

Until the next blog post, Sophie.

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sophiesaysweb-blog · 9 years ago

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Flashing at a Festival.

If you read my last blog post, you would have read that I went to a festival last weekend. As I already stated, it was probably one of the best weekends of my life. It just had ‘good vibes’. There was no drama or any angst, although there are a LOT of stories to tell. From previous travel experiences, I always felt like people liked me more when I’m away from home rather than when I’m at home. Does that make sense? When I travel, or go off somewhere, I feel like people get to see who I really am and they genuinely seem to like me. They don’t know who I am, or what my background is. They get a first impression and that’s it, and for some reason, they appear to like me.

We arrived at the festival at about 5:30pm. We had all been up since 6:00am as we essentially had to travel from one end of the country to the other – but it was worth it. SO WORTH IT. I went to this festival with two of my friends, one from home and one from University, so it was a pretty small group. The first night of the festival was a pretty crazy one, even though we were only finding our feet and discovering where the best places were to go. We went to a small tent that was sponsored by a big alcohol company and they had a DJ playing various forms of house and dance music. I’m not normally a fan of this genre, but I couldn’t help but find my feet moving to the beat. It was insane. There was people jumping left, right and centre, alcohol flying in all directions (literally and figuratively), people crowd surfing, and various people having dance-offs. I also would like to point out that I consider myself a pretty talented dancer on the floor, particularly when I’m drinking as I uncover a new wave of confidence. (This is also goes with my talent to rap.) Lets just say this particular tent was a strong favourite over the weekend. (Even though it had a capacity for about 200 people, a good 350 people could squeeze in!) That night we went to the main arena where a very well known DJ was playing, and for some reason we managed to get towards the front. From prior experiences at various festivals and by just knowing, I knew that this DJ’s set would be crazy, as in, I told my friends before the gig that it is highly likely that we would die during his set, if not we would be separated by approximately 5,000 people. So you could say we were somewhat prepared for the set. - No, no we weren’t. As soon as the first beat was played in the set, the place went WILD. You could have mistaken it for a riot, they were on the same scale. (I should have pointed out prior to this that one of the girls I was with is EXTREMELY shy. I was actually pretty worried about her at this particular gig, but she was insistent on having the ‘ultimate festival experience’, so we let her be.)

At this particular gig, I was thrown in every direction imaginable even into the air. However, I had to just embrace it, that’s all you can do in these situations. This particular DJ is known for having crazy shows, so once you knew what you had gotten yourself into, it was fine. However, I failed in planning a wise outfit for the night. I just wanted to wear something stylish and comfortable, which SHOULD tick all the boxes, but no. I didn’t consider the fact that I was about to wear a crop top, to a concert, where I would be thrown into the air. Maybe if I had a smaller chest this wouldn’t matter, but I wear a 36DD cup. This REALLY mattered. So it was all going good, I was thrown side to side, nothing too major, until a guy came up to me and asked me could I go up on his shoulders. I had no problem with this, as you get a bird’s eye view of the crowd and you’re less prone to being pushed -( because you’re up in the air.)

Oh how little did I realise what would come next..... So I was on this guys shoulders, dancing as one would do, when “the beat dropped”. The place leapt into insanity. He started jumping up and down, which, well to be frank, if there’s someone on your shoulders, you shouldn’t do this. Since I was on his shoulders, I began bouncing uncomfortably up and down due to all of his jumping – and this was where all hell let loose. Literally. My off the shoulder crop top couldn’t handle the sheer pressure it was under from my boobs. I suppose it had to let loose, it had no where else to go - which is exactly what it did. I could feel my top rising up, but because I was being swayed in all directions I could not stop what happened next. Ultimately, my top went up and I flashed the crowd. As I type this I can’t help but think of the phrase “tits gone up” and laugh, as this is exactly what happened. I wouldn’t be as embarrassed if no one had noticed, but little did I know that being on ones shoulders was not permitted due to safety reasons. Therefore, a security guard at the front of the stage shined his flashlight on me, to tell me to get down, however little did he know that he was in fact highlighting (literally) my exposed chest. Thankfully, my bra stayed intact, but just about. However on the other hand, my bra was there to support my chest in the crop top, it was not there to look pretty. So I essentially flashed people an unattractive nude bra. I couldn’t even make my accidental flash look somewhat intentional or sexy. No. I’m an awkward person. I couldn’t have made it sexy even if I INTENTIONALLY flashed the crowd. My flash probably scarred people for life. Lets just say I was quickly taken off the guys shoulders and that’s the last I saw of him. I can take two positive things from this concert. 1.) It was a very good concert and it got the weekend off to a great start. 2.) I think I’m all ‘swag’ at concerts, so if I like the act/song I have my shades down. Don’t ask me why, it has become my ritual. I’m almost known for it. So, while this particular incident occurred, my shades were down, so I like to think that no one could REALLY realise that I was the girl that flashed the crowd. It comforts me little bit. However sunglasses can only conceal so much…. breasts are not one of these.

I will be posting the rest of the weekends happenings in the next couple of days, so make sure to stay tuned as there’s quite a lot to tell.

Until the next blog post,

Sophie.

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sophiesaysweb-blog · 9 years ago

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Why I am starting this blog now.

So last weekend I went to a three-day music festival and it was probably one of the best experiences I have ever had. The people I met, the bands I saw, the fun I had – I couldn’t fault it. Since arriving back to my home place on Monday, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the weekend. (Now this normally happens no matter where I go, as coming back home is utterly depressing.) However this time it’s slightly different.

Now before I say what I’m about to say, I want you to know that I am normally VERY sceptical of this sort of thing. Over the weekend I went to a palm reader. Yes I know, you’re probably yelling at your screen “WHY WOULD YOU GO TO SOMEONE WHOSE JOB IS TO SCAM YOU?!” – or something along those lines, and I can honestly say, I’m still not sure what exactly came over to me to go, but I did.

This is where it gets interesting. The palmist starting telling me stuff that she couldn’t possibly know about me. (For all you sceptics still out there- yes I know they feed off your reactions etc.- but give me a chance!) She told me that I will travel for at least five years as that’s what my job will entail. (I am currently doing a degree in languages so I was quite impressed. Plus I have a terrible itch to travel so I loved hearing this.) She was also able to describe my personality down to a tee* – how I’m soft-hearted, mild-mannered and gentle – but incredibly strong-headed with my family. She also told me the typical stuff a palmist is expected to tell you, how I’m going to be married but not until I’m thirty, how I’m going to have four kids,two before and two after marriage and how things will not come easy to me – in terms of money. I will have to work hard to get where I want to be, but it will be worth it in the end. I personally liked hearing the last part, which to some people may be hard to hear, but for me, I found it quite therapeutic. Life has not come easy for me so far, my family is nowhere near what one would consider ‘rich’ but we’re happy – we get by with what we have. Maybe that’s why I didn’t mind hearing it. I’ve been working as a waitress for the past four years to afford University and other general expenses and there’s nothing quite as satisfying as knowing you have earned this money, all by yourself. The only person you have to rely on is yourself, which I like.

(If you haven’t already discovered, I like to give a background to all my stories, therefore expect them to be quite lengthy.)

The palmist also stated some things that were malarkey: she told me that I’m going to have a red car in the near future, which is where the sceptic in me appears. HOW COULD SHE POSSIBLY KNOW THIS BY READING MY PALMS?! She also said to me that I have two boys that are ‘after me’ at the moment. Okay, so if you were a normal person this may seem like a standard prediction, but I am not normal, I’m actually quite far from it. You’ll learn more about my romantic endeavours in later blog posts, but lets just say I found this statement quite laughable. It would have been laughable if she said that there was one guy who apparently likes me but TWO?! I had to question her sanity a little bit there. I’m actually quite looking forward to telling you about the number of failed romantic experiences I have had, as looking back on them now, I pretty much qualify as a real life, younger version of Bridget Jones.

When the palmist began telling me about my future love life she told me that I would become a writer, however only through the encouragement and the confidence that my other half will give me – and that’s why I’m here today. I’ve ALWAYS had a passion for writing, but I never did anything about it. I used to always, well I still do keep my short stories, ideas and journals to myself. Before you start questioning did I end up with ‘the other half’ after the weekend, the answer is no, that’s actually another story altogether. However, what the weekend has shown me is that I really need to start doing what I want to do, I need to be fearless and that’s why I’ve started this blog. I honestly got quite frustrated when the palmist told me I wouldn’t begin writing openly until I found someone. I’m not going to wait for this mysterious person. They may never come. I really need to start “grabbing the bull by the horns” and start doing the stuff I want to do – before it’s too late.

So now I have started a public blog. I honestly feel like I’m about to puke, but I feel good. I finally took the step. I honestly think the only reason it took me so long to start a blog is because people I know might find out and think I’m writing about them. That it one of my vices – I care WAY too much what people think about me and I know I shouldn’t but I do. I can’t help it. If you haven’t put two and two together, Sophie isn’t my real name, let’s just say she’s my pseudonym. However all my experiences, thoughts and feelings are 100% true. I may reveal my real name, I may never, but for now I hope you enjoy the stories and tales Sophie will begin to tell, all thanks to the palmist, for finally pushing me to do what I want to do.

Until the next blog post,

Sophie.

*If you sceptics are still reading this, don’t say what I probably already know about palmists and fortune telling. I’m taking something positive out of this experience.

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