Warped 2010

August 20, 2010

8/2/10

Without seatbelts and cigarettes shoved into our bag we sped down the highway on our way to the 2010 Vans Warped Tour. “State Avenue west exit,” Tyler kept repeating to Mackenzie. As we neared the west exit Mackenzie see’s the State Avenue east exit and as she’s about to turn into it Ashley and Nicole shout, “WEST!” We swerve out of that lane and I think about if my parents were driving behind her they’d get mad because of her reckless driving that I love.

We walked over to the big blow up billboard with all the set times patched onto it and onto the burning pavement that covered most of the Sandstone amphitheatre’s ground. All I could really feel was my sunscreen covered skin burning underneath the sun. Out of all the days Warped Tour could come to Kansas City they picked today August 2nd, the hottest day of the year, the temperature reaching a staggering 100 degrees with a heat index of 110.

The first thing Mackenzie said when Vic Fuentes, the lead singer of Pierce The Veil, walked up to the microphone after the guy wearing the day of the dead costume completed with a giant sombrero finished his intro was, “They’re cute,” with a smile turning her lips. Pierce The Veil opened with “Besitos,” the first track of their new record Selfish Machines. “Open that pit up!” Vic kept instructing. Each time the pit calmed down Nicole reached out for my hand as we wormed our way to the front. After a few more songs Vic came down into the crowd. Nicole ran to the front to reach at his sweaty arms and I whipped out my camera and followed her. The best part of Pierce The Veil’s set was before they played “Drella” Jaime, Vic, and Tony were working on build up guitars and Mike on drums then the clip of Ludacris’s “How Low Can You Go” soprano voice came in and Jaime, Vic, and Tony raised their guitars all together that read in colored duct tape, “GET FUCKIN’ LOW.” Then the clip ended and the guitars came back in as they headbanged in sync.

You Me At Six walked onto the makeshift Altec Lansing blow-up stage in all their British glory. I was stoked to be seeing them to the extent that I showed up to the stage ten minutes early. I claimed my spot in the front row but I burned like a leaf under a magnifying glass. You Me At Six put on a fair show but sadly the crowd was very, very weak. There was no excitement of a moshpit and I only had to hand up one crowdsurfer. They mostly played songs from their new record Hold Me Down but I was content with jumping around to “Underdog” and echoing Josh on “Stay With Me,” though they did play “Save It For The Bedroom.” I wanted to inhale excitement at the You Me At Six set. I wanted to be pushed against the barricade and have fear I’d get stuck in the pit if I got pushed. I wanted Josh to look at me and sing back to me, something.

Walking away from their set sweat was literally dripping down my legs and the air didn’t seem so hot anymore since there wasn’t so much combined body heat building up. A dizzy head and with queasy stomach, my hands were slippery with sweat and dirt stuck to my fingers from the little valley we would sit in to cool off. I walked over to Tyler and said, “Can I have that water? I feel like I’m gonna pass out.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
I slid down to the burning pavement that had been heating the barricaded sound system and drank what was left of our boiling water.

After visiting the sprinkler showers again I caught the last of VersaEmerge’s set. I left the crowd when Never Shout Never came on to climb the hill and sit in the seats with Tyler as Mackenzie and Ashley left to cool down the car.

Driving home in Mackenzie’s air conditioned car we all complained about how much we smelled and how grimy we felt. Then Tyler said from the passenger’s seat, “I’m as fresh as a fuckin’ daisy.”

I cherish Warped Tour no matter how miserable it can be in the heat because it’s usually my last summer stint. It feels like home, like a giant party. It’s the last something that means anything before I go back to school. So I bought a red Set Your Goals shirt with a picture on the back of Jordan Brown singing to a crowd of kids. It reads lyrics from “The Fallen…” – May I never lose my youth/All of this is too unforgettable.

(pictures)

Advertisements

She loves everybody

September 24, 2009

She loves everybody.

After that little bump in the road last night, things were cleared up. I doubted her a little, but I guess she was just trying to be considerate. Well, it seems the “bump in the road” is determined to haunt me. I really do wish I had the nerve to say how much I want completely new friends so I guess this is the end of us. But she loves everybody, and she won’t let me go.

I think my favorite part about watching band interviews is seeing how much fun they have together. Their smiling joking faces; sitting with good friends. I think that was one of the reasons I wanted to be in a band for a while. But I changed my mind. My head might be in it, but my heart isn’t. I know it’s a long ways away, but I like plan ahead.

Anyway, I was talking to Taylor in the hall at the end of the day (that’s the girl whom I have similarities with, by the way). Yesterday I finally asked her if we could hang out sometime, and I mentioned the art fair this weekend. Well “the bump in the road” comes over and introduces herself. The whole idea of talking to Taylor, trying to get to know her, was to branch out and in particular, keep “the bump in the road” out of it.

I knew she would say something. She loves everybody. We got outside of the school building to look for our bus among the mass of kids and twenty or so busses and she said it. (No shit, there are in fact at least twenty busses. The reason for this is because we drive to the high school afterwards.) “Hey, you know that girl we were taking to? I kinda wanna be her friend since you guys are hanging out.” I just stayed silent because I know, and now you know that she loves everybody.


It was alright but I’m not saying I want to go back.

August 24, 2009

Okay, so the first day back at school wasn’t so bad. It was better than I expected it to be, but that doesn’t mean it won’t be different tomorrow or that I’ve stopped hating it. Honestly, the only thing I’m really worried about is PE, opening my locker, and getting to class on time.

English is my favorite subject. I love to write and read new and interesting things. My only problem? I am stuck with a shitty teacher. She is old, mean and moody. During the whole class we just sat in her room listening to her lecture us about what we can and can’t do. At one point she said, “I’m not gonna treat you like you’re dumb. I’m not going to come over to you and comfort you and say, ‘Oh, it’s okay little retard.'” I guess all I can do is hope for a better English teacher in high school.

Thankfully, I knew a group of people from my old school or people I had met at summer school. Even though I don’t want to call all of them friends, it is nice to see someone I at least remembered. I got a little turned around walking through the hallways but I managed to find my way around. I’ve got to admit, I was a little late to some of my classes due to a crappy combination lock.

I hope tomorrow is better and a get the swing of things. At least after the first week you would think. Today was really just and orientation; and I was handed a many “syllabus”. There wasn’t any homework other than to take home all my papers and get my parents to read over them and sign them. Actually, I do have to write a paragraph about how Project Lead The Way got its start, but that barely counts. — The only class I’m really worried about is PE. I usually do the exercises required but that doesn’t mean I like them. I’m just afraid of looking utterly stupid. That would be a bad feeling. I’m not too keen on embarrassment.

Surprisingly, I think my favorite teacher so far is the Science teacher. Holy guacamole, she is a bundle of energy! I guess that’s it. I hope tomorrow I can shake of the early morning jitters faster. (Did I mention I have to wake up at 6:00 AM and get to school by 7:00? Well, if I didn’t now you know!)


We’ve got a big mess on our hands

July 7, 2009

Damn, guilt.

How do you uninvite someone to go somewhere with you? Like the Vans Warped Tour, perhaps? Why can’t I just keep my mouth shut? I was looking to take someone my age, or a little older, but not her. We like a couple of the same bands but I just can’t see myself at a Chiodos set with her. I can’t see myself meeting John O’Callaghan from The Maine with her either.

Maybe her mom won’t let her go, but that’s selfish of me, isn’t it? Though this isn’t just anyone, this is Sarah. Sarah and I… we aren’t the same. We are friends but we are very different people. This is the girl likes to start arguments over silly misunderstandings, the girl who called me a bitch. I know those things are over and done with now, but I’m mainly just searching for excuses. I guess I shouldn’t bother inviting anyone to Warped Tour. Everything I say is a mess.

If I don’t bring it up again, maybe nothing will happen. I should just stick to keeping my concerts a secret from my friends like I did during the school year. If that’s going to work MY MOTHER needs to keep her mouth shut and stop bragging to people about it. I like to keep things secret, understood? What am I going to do?

In the words of William Beckett,
We’ve got a big, big mess on our hands tonight
Somebody get my phone so I can throw it in a public pool
and watch it float
And as it’s slowly sinking down become a social ghost


The Little Things

February 2, 2009

Today I was at least hopeful, and not completely negative. In fact I was secretly excited to go to PE, but keep that a secret. I’m trying hard to focus on my work when Sarah, Veronica, and I get to talking about the Katy Perry concert. Veronica: “I really want to go, but my mom says no since it’s at a bar. But I might get to see The Killers!” My heart sinks. I cannot remember if I spilled the beans or what, but I pray to god that the tickets will soon be sold out before she gets her hands on them. Me: “Oh.” That was all I managed to say. Veronica is barely a Killers fan; I wish I could strangle her right now. I come back with, “Yeah, I love The Killers. I have all their albums.” I understand that was a total cat-ish thing to do, but to be honest, that was what I was aiming for. Yeah, yeah, she knows one song. In my book, that is called a poseur fan. You might not understand how it can get under my skin so much, but I like doing things on my own. Without friends to ask to “hang out” with me when all they do insult me.

 Sarah speaks, “Phoenixx don’t take this the wrong way, but my brother thinks-” I finish for her, “That I’m to young to go to Warped Tour. I know, you told me.” She goes on about how he said I was too young to go to concerts, listen to this kind of music, “besides I might think I know what they are talking about, but I really don’t”. Now, the last of that sentence was a quote. All I could think was, WHY DOES HE (YOU) ****ING CARE?!?!?! It’s not like it is any of his business. Note to self: Never speak of any concerts near my “friends”… ever. This is one reason why I love to isolate myself from everyone. Just when I’ve dusted myself back off, they bite back with words. I reply to Sarah, “What I am I supposed to listen to, Hannah Montana?!?!?!” I wish I could scream in her face. In fact both of them, but I’ve got a “good girl” reputation and I wish I could show them my venom.

 Later that day Madeline comes over to me, “Phoeni, I can’t believe you are gonna bail on me with the Katy Perry concert!” I’m sorry, but I would like to save my money for other concerts and merchandise money. I reply to her, “I’m sorry, but I wanted to see The Killers.” “Yeah, but still.” she continues. I respond, “Yeah, but it’s THE KILLERS.” Veronica was sitting next to me. Of course then she starts talking about bands, which leads to a dream she had, which leads to money. With that someone asks what she would do with the money. Veronica: “Um, go to concerts, buy clothes, shoes.” Go to concerts was her first answer. I know for a fact she wouldn’t even have thought about it if I hadn’t brought it up. God, why do I have to be such an idiot?!

I suppose, I shouldn’t get mad over things so little as these, but it’s the little things that make me itch.


What a Day

January 29, 2009

Today I was shadowing at the school I will go to next school year. It was nerve wracking thinking about it, even though I was only going to follow a girl around her school all day. I had to be awake by six thirty this morning to make it on time. School starts at 7:10 for them, which sucks for me. The school is in the downtown area which is about a twenty minute drive.

I arrived at the school building feeling panicky, my mouth kept twitching with anxiety. (What a wuss!) I had to go through the metal detectors, then into the office where I waited for a girl named Rose. I stood there with my little bag which held a couple pens, a notebook, my lunch, and a book (“Burned” by Ellen Hopkins to be exact). When Rose arrived my mother signed a slip and left. She turned and looked at me, smiled, and spoke, “Your lip just twitched.” then gave me a half hug. Rose and I were then asked to the guidance counselor’s office to be asked questions about the shadowing. It took a couple minutes, but was taken care of with a phone call to my mother.

While I was in a few of her classes I had time to make a couple journal entries. My first was in her French class, first period.

Journal entry #1

There isn’t one boy in the classroom. I looked around the room several times to see all girls populating the classroom. The class was interesting. When they spoke in French it sounded intriguing, minus the fact I hadn’t a clue what they were saying. The words that were flowing off their tongues sounded so… hmmm… interesting, though that isn’t the right word. Oh well. The teacher seemed nice I suppose, though I haven’t known her long enough. Challenging for sure, at least from my perspective. Maybe this is a class I might want to think about taking up, it is just the comprehending part I’m worried about. The students were reading from their books, as the teacher would call out names to read sentences (some girls were obviously unsure about what they were reading). Then we had to listen to an audio tape and identify what they were saying. To end class, they played a game where the teacher would call out a word in French and the first person to write out the word in English, correctly, would earn their team a point.

 SCHEDULE 7:10 -2:10

– French

– Health

– ??

– Band

– Lunch

– Latin

– Geography

– English

A couple hours passed and I didn’t write a thing, but I did read. Health was scary. The kids were crazy, loud, rude, creepy, disrespectful. The whole deal. I just sat there staring at the pages I was easily reading. Afraid to look up, feeling like a million pairs of eyes would be staring at me. I recognized a kid who used to go to my school. Only because of his neon, lime green Converse, I saw. Then I looked up to see his long brunette hair that I remembered. Finally the bell (buzzer really) rang and I was saved.

The name of the next class was unknown to me and I never found out. I felt more comfortable in this room. As I read more of my book. I held a uni-ball pen in my hand for no reason really, just something to hold onto to boost my comfort zone (like wearing jackets ALL the time). A girl Rose was friends with talked to me. Mainly about books. She said had read “Burned” and told me it was amazing. I then noticed she was carrying “Thirteen Reasons Why” around and we both agreed it was pretty good. 

Band was next. Rose didn’t really stop back at her locker so we kept on walking  (rushing) down to the band room. In that room I recognized another boy from my school, his name is Austen. He is quite mischievous, he looked the same in the face, maybe a little more mature. Medium brown skin with a vague red tint. Whatever. Unfortunately I didn’t have much time to read during band. Though the class did not play their instruments, instead they filled a work packet while the teacher handed me one to look over.

LUNCH. Whooo!! Eating lunch was easy. Talked with a couple more of Rose’s friends. One who I thought was awful, the other liked the same kind of music as me. In fact we both said we loved Brendon Urie from Panic At The Disco, and I told her I saw them in June of last year. She was in shock that they even came here and then it turned to fake sadness. I ate most of my lunch, while still being asked, “Are you new here?” (which got rather annoying). Yet, I still felt like the odd one out. After lunch we shimmied back up the steps to Latin.

Journal entry #2

Latin. It’s interesting so far. Though I am yet to hear someone speak the language. I was handed a quiz paper and a book, even though the teacher was told I was shadowing. He told the class all of the questions to the test can be answered on page 175 in the book. I thought, What the heck, might as well fill it out. Not knowing the timer would go off I took my sweet time writing down the answers. I think I wrote down at least six, complete sentence, answers when the timer went off. With that I think I’ll just recycle the paper, besides I won’t be back here until next school year. The teacher started asking the questions from the test, which lead in to other discussion. The teacher seems nice, humorous, or at least trying. Though I haven’t seen him mad so I can’t label too soon.

Geography made me freak out. I didn’t like it, but I don’t really like school at all so…. I was in the front row, yet I still had trouble reading what was on the board.  They were taking a pop quiz and when I didn’t answer the question I felt (and heard) kids getting mad at me. I felt like the teacher was staring me down, maybe I was just paranoid. My next journal entry.

Journal entry #3

Okay so I know I want to come here next year. It is definitely challenging. The only things I’m afraid of are the early mornings (gotta be up by six and there by seven), the students, a couple teachers, and the hallways in between classes. Hopefully I’ll have a few friends to face it with me. Right now I’m going to try and relax before the time comes at the end of August. (And during the last week of summer break that I’ll have to “prep” for those wonderful (note sarcasm) early mornings.)

English was okay. I wish they had a better teacher, but I didn’t see the students “in action” either. My last journal entry.

Journal entry #4

So this is Rose’s last class, English. She told me about her “bipolar” teacher, I guess could agree. Things are pretty simple at the moment. The class is tame (which is again, mainly populated by girls). They are correcting and finishing their papers, while I read some more. I’ve gotten some great reading in today. Though not much writing time because I’m afraid kids will read my notes. Back to the book – My mom picked up a copy of “Burned” by Ellen Hopkins for me yesterday night and I’ve already devoured 350 pages. YAAYYYY!!

Once the bell rang I grabbed my things out of Rose’s locker and waited for her to show me back down to the office. I walked into the office to find my mother waiting for me.


“Here we go again”

January 14, 2009

“And here we go again, with all the things we said and not a minute spent. To think that we’d regret so we just take it back. These words and hold our breath, forget the things we swore we meant.” – Paramore “Here We Go Again”

Today the music teacher is absent. So Mr.”B” is substituting, which means the whole class will take advantage of him. Mr.”B” is a poetry writing, nice, intelligent, old man and doesn’t seem to have the nerve to get the class in his control. So while pens and pencils fly across the room, the radio is turned on, and students bang on instruments.

It started with a Sharpie. I grabbed an orange, Sharpie high-lighter. I drew on my shoe a bit and my friend Robby snatches it from my hand. I tug at the high-lighter, trying loosen his grip; no use. I just sit there as Mr.”B” tries to put cartoons on (Bugs Bunny to be exact.) I see Robby I wait a couple minutes go up to him and snatch the marker right back. My “friend” Sarah sees the marker and says, “I saw it first, Brennen took it away from my so give it here.” I don’t think she noticed I clenched my jaw in frustration. I am so sick of Sarah. One minute I think we are good friends, the next she is calling me a loser, or knifing me in the back by going along with people who are messing with me. So now Sarah grabs the marker and I plead, “Just let me use it for a second.” She smiles at me and says, “X’s.” “What?” I reply. I pondered what she was trying to get at, did she mean like when I go to concerts? Since I’m under 21 if I go to a certain concert venue they mark my hands with X’s, making sure I can’t try to purchase a drink. She murmurs, “Never mind, you aren’t smart enough to understand.” That set me off, yet again I didn’t show the emotion of anger. I’ve learned her tricks. If I tell her off she get mad and tells the whole school about the fight, then she’ll turn everyone against me, lie some more, and then say sorry. I hated this. It took me a minute to understand what I was getting myself into, though I went on. “Sarah, why do you talk like that? Why are you always calling me stupid or a loser?” Robby looked up at us and spoke jokingly, “C’mon guys! Why do we have to fight right now?” I gave him a look and sighed, “Robby.” “Yeah, why are you bringing this up right now so everyone can hear?” Sarah pushes. Isn’t it freaking obvious?! I responded, “Because you just did it a minute ago so I said it now.” “Yeah, but still.” said Sarah. I felt like slapping a hand to my forehead, what kind of answer was “Yeah, but still.”???!!! Sarah said something like, “Well, I was only joking and sorry if you didn’t get it.” I didn’t notice the sorry in there until a few minutes later when she said, “Fine. Then don’t accept my apology.” in that famous attitude of hers. I bulged my eyes and turned around. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you.” and turned to face the TV once more. This seemed like a little thing to get mad over in my book, but she just kept going. “Oh, so you still don’t accept my apology.” I whipped around and said, “FINE. I’M SORRY!” I turned back around and heard her whisper, “B****” Are you kidding me I thought?! I was going crazy and acted upon my first impulse with hatred burning in my eyes. “I heard what you just said.” “You don’t know what I said-” I cut her off. “I know what you said you called me a b****.” “No I didn’t, who are you to tell me what I said?” My heart was pounding now. I was ready to scream right in her face. She’d never seen me like this because I had never let it escape, but it was so on right now. Call me a b****, you’ve crossed the line. “You always get mad at little things like this. And you did to call me a b**** I heard you so stop lying.” I turned around once more huffing like mad, attempting to slow my heart rate. I swear my heart was beating so fast, so hard.

Sarah scooted back in her chair far away from me. I pretended to keep my attention to the TV while I was writing out the whole story in my head. Every so often I would glance around the room. Once I saw Sarah talking to Veronica and Giselle, most likely about me. I didn’t give a damn, I don’t need crappy friends anyway. My fingers were crossed as I hoped they wouldn’t come over and do Sarah’s dirty work. What did I expect? Veronica sat by me for a while, I thought she could be decent enough not to say a word about the argument. Nope. Wrong. She said she hoped Sarah and I would make up. I didn’t reply to that at all.  I was absolutely sure I wouldn’t make up with her, I wanted this to last so she wouldn’t keep coming back, repeating the same patterns. By the time I had looked up again, Sarah was in a corner feeling all sorry for herself. Another one of her tricks. Kids will come over to her and ask, “What’s wrong?’ and she’ll tell them the whole story after she was told me not to say a word about “our business”.

On the way out of music class Veronica tells me, “Sarah wasn’t calling you a b****, she said she was calling herself one.” I was thinking, riiiight (note sarcasm). Instead of saying that I just narrowed my eyes. Once we got back to our classroom Ms.____ was reading. About half way through the end of her reading Sarah passed me a note. It was telling me “how sorry she was and that she was calling herself the b****.” It also told me to circle yes, no, or maybe, if I accepted he apology. I couldn’t believe this. I wanted to circle maybe or no, but instead I said yes. What kind of idiot am I???  So she hands me the notebook on the sly again with another note scribbled on it. Sarah wrote something like, “You are such a good friend if you accepted my apology.” All I was thinking was, Or maybe I’m just a really good liar.