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raging out at... the coachella edition

Before I begin my usual rant on the finer points of suckage, I will first concede that Coachella is amazing. People are friendly; they just invite you to crash in their giant mansions upon meeting you. There are so many amazing and really strange things to see (and I'm not even talking about the bands). There's great music and tasty snacks. What's not to love? Well, you can always count on your old pal stars to find something to be pissed about. Or truth be told, some things.

1) The Impossibility of Finding Anyone
I haven't seen my friend Chris in over a year. He's back on the east coast and we seem to keep missing each other every time I'm back. We spent an entire weekend just a few hundred yards from each other and still couldn't manage to hook up. And it actually took nearly a full 24 hours for me to find my friend Erica who* I was STAYING with. Although I did get the consolation prize of the century with a David Hasselhoff sighting.

2) Shoddy Cell Phone Service
I am absolutely one of those people that is useless as a human when I'm without a cell phone. Seeing the evil "X" or no bars on my phone makes me want to spit venom especially when I am trying to meet up with someone, a la point numero uno. But the cell phone service at Coachella has an even more annoying factor to it. All weekend, my phone lied to me and told me I had full coverage but somehow just couldn't send or receive texts without some absurd multi-hour delay.

3) Pass "Situations" and Rude Security Guards
Much like Orion hates security guards who wield power just because they can, I too have a vendetta against evil, power-hungry security. Can someone explain to me why my sidestage pass that would allow me to actually go onstage would not let me into the VIP tent where approximately 2,500 people were allowed? Yeah, I can't either. According to the good folks at Coachella, I had permission to go backup dance during Prince's set, but could not share in the VIP beer? Height of rudeness.

4) Annoying Security Gripe Part Deux
They like to make you walk certain paths where there is all sorts of human pileup. Why? I don't know. Allowing people to use the whole road instead of a fenced in dustbowl would probably create less congestion. But what do I know?

5) VIP Parking
In an attempt to not come off as elitist, preferred parking is hard to come by unless you are actually handicapped. My lovely and wonderful Amanda took care of special parking for me. However, this special parking was actually farther away than the general public parking. I saw press people carrying 25 pound cameras and crazy amounts of equipment the half mile to the venue. I appreciate the idea of being able to park close when you are physically incapable of walking far (although if you are incapable of walking that far to the venue, you honestly probably shouldn't be at Coachella where everything is a solid quarter mile away from everything else in the first place) and I do understand that maybe I am a spoiled brat about being able to park where I want, but these press people were seriously fucked. So much for being VIP.

6) My Pink Hair
Okay, this is perhaps not a Coachella problem, but it certainly came to light in the drug-friendly environment that Coachella has come to be. My hair is currently a shockingly bright shade of pink and this somehow apparently screams to crazies that I am a drug dealer. For the record... I do NOT have ecstasy on me nor can I sell you some meth. And honestly wouldn't any drug dealer at a festival like that try to carry themselves with a little more discretion and maybe not have glow-in-the-dark hair? Just a thought.

7) Prince
He is overrated and garbage.

Sorry, Coachella, for making you the subject of my rageout. I truly had a lovely time and fully appreciate the tan you provided me! Until next year...




grievance: excessive air conditioning

I will preface this by saying that I am always cold. Or at least on the cold side of the spectrum. As a result, I am angry and sullen during New York winters, which are pretty intolerable with wind tunnels through the streets because of buildings. I acknowledge that I probably like the climate to be a bit warmer than most (I tend to sit out in blaring heat and sun because it feels nice [I think I'm a cat] and have no problem with humidity [I was blessed with good hair]), however I assume that most people in New York welcome spring and summer when they come.

Apparently I'm fucking wrong.

The entire motherfuckin' city apparently desires it to be 39 degrees at all times. From where do I make this deduction? From the fact that the temperature of every fucking place a human being can control is pumped senseless with air conditioning.

Today is the first really warm day (76 degrees... girls wearing dresses and everything) and sure enough, I get on the bus, and the A/C is on so high that I'm shivering and I'm having difficulty hearing myself think from the "rrrrrrrrrrrr" of the system. Listen, on a 95 degree day, I'm as happy to enjoy a little conditioned air as much as the next guy, but 76 degrees? And the first day of nice weather? Aren't we jumping the gun a little bit?

Furthermore, everywhere I look, people are trying to invest in green campaigns to try to use the least amount of... well... anything we used to use. So why are we bangin' the A/C control up to the thick blue line, all the time? I don't need to feel a gust of FREEZING air every time I walk by a shop and someone is walking out of it. Seriously? We're using so much air conditioning that we're conditioning the air out-of-doors?

It's summer. I want to wear summer clothes. I don't want to carry around a fucking PARKA with me all day so I can wear it when I go inside these places. Enough is enough.

Plus, air conditioning feels weird. It feels creepy. I don't like it. Get a fan. And go fuck yourself.