The Rave and the Toothbrush

Sweet fuckity Jesus, what a weekend.

I left my house at midday on Saturday and did not return until about an hour ago, and today is Monday. So much happened that I have to divide this post into two parts.

PART ONE -  THE RAVE

I got myself all primped and prettied up in my pink and black slutwear, threw on my kandi and my gogo boots, and drove to Red Rocks on my lonesome for day two of Global. Global is a three day rave and is the biggest rave in Colorado. Like other multiple-day raves, you can either get a full pass to all of the days, or do what I did and get a ticket only for the day or two that has artists that you care about. Saturday had the combined proponents of having the best line up and the most people I knew planning to go.

The big artists for Saturday were Nadia Ali, Morgan Paige, Wolfgang Gartner, and Above & Beyond; I witnessed all of them. My favorite was Wolfgang Gartner. I have never heard a set so good in my life. I danced and jammed for practically the entire hour and a half that he played. Above & Beyond were good, but sort of disappointing compared to Gartner because of how chill their set was. They did do this thing where they would type things to the audience that would be displayed on the big screen above the stage, so that was cool.

Going to Global by myself was a gamble. In years past, I had always gone with a big group. This year, I knew of people who were going, but at a theater like Red Rocks, which is huge, it was unlikely that I would actually meet up or be able to hang out with anyone. But, I think that the rave gods were smiling down upon me because right after I arrived, I ran into Technicolor Boy and the group of people that he came with. I knew most of his friends anyway, so their group just sort of absorbed me for the night.

Ok, best moment of the night:
Above & Beyond had just started their set. From where we were in the audience, you could see all of the thousands of people dancing and jamming, as well as the incredible stage. Looking around, I felt like part of something big, amazing, and communal. It was pretty PLURtastic. I was scanning the crowd and marveling at humanity, and suddenly Technicolor Boy walked right in front of me. There, under the lights, surrounded by thousands of people and the incredible scenery that is Red Rocks, I kissed him.

After Above & Beyond finished and the rave was done for the night, Technicolor Boy and a few of his friends decided to go with me to an after party. The party was interesting, not a blast, but not un-fun. I made friends, played with lights, and some guy who had an Avatar arrow painted on his head did a quick show with fire poi (Google 'fire poi' and be amazed). The main thing was that everyone was rolling absolute face, which I didn't mind, but it was a little awkward because I was completely sober.

Yes, I will say that again for emphasis: I spent Global sober. While everyone else was dropping acid and parachuting crushed-up rolls, I smoked cigarettes. While people were smoking blunts and taking lines of coke, I smoked yet more cigarettes. I even turned down the vodka shots that people kept offering to me at the after party. I was completely and totally sober, and I still had fucktons of fun.

After the after party, because we didn't feel like going home quite yet, we all met up with some other friends who had gotten a hotel room for the night and watched Disney movies. Ravers are so silly.

At almost six in the morning, we embarked on the long drive home. Well, to Technicolor Boy's house, which is in Fort Collins, which is a little farther north than home for me. I basically drove from one end of I-25 to the other, which was only okay with me because the view of the sunrise wasn't half bad. To put this epic drive into perspective, you should know that Red Rocks is in Morrison, which is southwest of Denver. From Morrison to the southernmost part of Denver, where the after party was, was about ten miles. From south Denver to north Denver, where the hotel was, was about another five miles. The final stretch, from Denver to Fort Collins was about 70 miles.

Now you all know why I stayed sober despite having free drugs thrust in face all night-- there is no way I would have been able to make that drive if I had been under the influence of anything, let alone if that thing had been ecstasy. As it was, we had to stop halfway, in Longmont, for gas at a station right off of the interstate.

Side note: it has become a running joke that my car always runs out of gas on rave nights. I am always forced to pump gas in my slutwear, because I never bring extra clothing and all of my friends are either lazy or too scared to exit the car in their own slutwear. Thank God that I have no shame.

Finally, after driving for fucking ever, we all got to the house and pretty much collapsed from exhaustion, basking in the glory of the night.


PART TWO - THE TOOTHBRUSH

After sleeping for a few hours, all of Technicolor Boy's friends either went home, to work, or back to Red Rocks, leaving he and I basically alone.

Cue gratuitous cuddling and canoodling.

It was during this afternoon canoodling that he and I had one of the most serious and important conversations we have ever had. We DTRed. (fucking finally!)

The deal is this: We are monogamous. We're not dating, there will be no official titles, but until one or the other of us decides that the whole shebang is getting to be a chore, we are monogamous.

Score one for the Jew. This is, to a tee, exactly what I wanted. I find labels to be superfluous and titles to be unnecessary, but I got the commitment that I wanted. And now that we are both on the same page about things, I feel as though the stigmatic barrier between us has been burst through.

I spent Sunday night at his house, too. We watched cartoons and superhero movies and got sushi. For the entirety of the time, I was wearing a pair of his shorts and his t shirt because, as stated previously, I had brought nothing else to wear after Global. Despite all of his roommates being at Global and seeing me in my sluttacular, whoretablulous glory, there is a time and a place for wearing a polk-a-dot push up bra and fishnets.

Another side note: apparently, the bra I had chosen to be the centerpiece of my outfit had done its job too well. All of Technicolor Boy's friends ended up telling him (and sometimes, me) at random intervals throughout the night and the following morning about how great they thought my boobs were. Flattering, but awkward. Hate to break it to you, boys, but half of it was the ridiculous padding in the bra. For some reason, all of the cute bras at Target have uber push up padding. Go figure.

Anyfuckingway.

Upon waking up, I could barely swallow due to the incredible dryness in my mouth that had occured from sleeping in Technicolor Boy's poorly ventilated house. I was rocking some major morning breath that would not dissipate despite alternately swishing with water and mouth wash (delicious details, you're welcome) so I shyly asked if there was an extra toothbrush that I could borrow.

Technicolor Boy located a brand new toothbrush and a little cap-like protector for it and handed it to me. After vanquishing my mouth, I didn't know what to do with the toothbrush; it seemed a waste to throw it away after one use. He suggested that I leave it at his house. He suggested this.

His suggestion that I leave a toothbrush at his house for future use not only implies that he expects me to stay at his house regularly in the future, but solidifies my confidence in the relationship that we have, whatever the fuck it is.

As I said before, titles are unnecessary, however, I have reached a level with him that I don't think I've ever reached with anyone else. I mean, I got close with Wsb, but I have actually reached it with Technicolor Boy. Beyond Little Kiss Territory, in the land of the unknown for me, I have discovered the next, slightly more intense level of intimacy: Toothbrush Status.

I cannot say I am unhappy to have gotten to this point with Technicolor Boy, but I am definitely scared shitless. Now that we have DTRed (which is ironic because it's still essentially a non-relationship) and that stigmatic barrier has been broken down, I feel closer to him than I ever expected to be. I am also infinitely more vulnerable. The "run, bitch, run!" feelings are beginning to surface again because I know that all good things inevitably end. I am so happy, but so confused. It was hard enough being in Little Kiss Territory, and now I get to deal with being beyond it.

It's like... It's like I could actually fall for him. It's like I'm already slipping.

Houston, we have a problem.



Julia