an appeal to the allocator of all things good in the world

 Hey Allocator of Everything Good in this World,

 

 

First of all, you should know that most of the asshole things I've done and said, I was mostly joking. Okay? I was mostly joking and/or I thought it would be funny. So any bad Karma I have at the expense of those things, let's just cut it in half because it probably brought joy and laughter to at least one person. Even if that person was me. Plus I barely ever do anything bad anyway.

 

 

Okay.

 

 

I just want you to know that I'm semi-short on cash, so I have, like, barely even a prayer of making this little scheme growing in my mind happen anyway, but your help and support and general tip of the scale of goodness in my direction would be ever so graciously appreciated.

 

 

I really, really, REALLY need to go to Sasquatch.

 

 

Don't fucking laugh, I'm dead serious, you dick.

 

 

Just kidding, you're totally not a dick. See what I did there? Joking. Ha. Totally not a sin.

 

 

But for realsies, the Sasquatch thing is going to happen. I mean, please? Have you seen the lineup? Take a second: sasquatchfestival.com.

 

Yeah, I had a full-out sweaty panic attack the first time I saw it too. I was at work. I almost choked on my Werther's Original, pilfered surreptitiously from my bosses candy dish. It's totally communal, though, so don't try to ding that as another bad thing on my Karma. Understand? I'm allowed a Werthers, dude.

 

Anyway, what I need you to understand is that this is a perfect storm. PERFECT STORM. In case you haven't noticed, Mr Allocator of Good Things, you haven't really shown me too much love lately. I'm getting by. I'm fine. I'm just saying, and take this as you will, that I have honestly not been happier in my lifetime than I was for the four days I spent at the Rothbury Music Festival in 2009.

 

It was pure, unadulterated, foggy, frolic-y bliss. For a complete four days. Even when I locked my keys in my car and the little guy on the golf cart had to come and find me amid the crowd and break me back in for 60 dollars. EVEN THAT PART WAS AWESOME. Seriously, how the fuck did that guy find me? I looked like every other 22 year old that was four days unbathed, sun soaked, musically satisfied, and essentially an urchin. Yet, It just worked out.

 

And then what did you do? You took Rothbury away from the entire world after that. COME ON. Come on. One more: COME. THE. FUCK. ON.

 

UGH.

 

I"m still pissed about it.

 

 

So this is what I need. I need this to just work out.

 

I'm willing to do my part. I promise. Those $1 frozen meals? Consider that an every day thing now. I promise, no more sushi for lunch during the work week. Fine, no pizza slip-ups either. Happy? I will no longer enjoy my lunch hour for the next three months of my life. For Sasquatch.

 

Not enough, you say?

 

Fine, no more frivolous beauty product purchases either. (Thank G I paid for my monthly Birchbox for the entire year already.) Because I'm for real here.  I won't even tempt myself with Ulta. Or Sephora. I'll buy the $6 shampoo. Oh my god. I swear I will buy the $6 conditioner too.

 

That's how serious I am.

 

What? More?

 

Fine.

 

I won't buy a single book. I'm getting shaky here, so bear with me. I WILL. READ. ONLY. LIBRARY. BOOKS. You know I hate it when I can't write in the margins. It literally grates against my soul. I guess this means no more movie theater trips too. No more popcorn. I can taste it's buttery goodness as I type this, that is how strong my sensory pull is to movie theater popcorn.

 

You want more than a financial sacrifice?

 

Fine.

 

I'm not even mad.

 

I've resigned myself to the idea that I will live an existence void of joy for the next three months if it means I will attend this four day festival. But more than that, I will actively attempt to do things that will make those I care about happier.

 

Yes, I will willingly watch sport events with Matt and actively engage in fanfare instead of sitting next to him on pinterest.  I will scratch that place on the back of his neck almost constantly just because I know he enjoys it. Hally will be the most-walked dog in the neighborhood. I WILL PUT AWAY MY CURLING IRON IN THE MORNING. I promise, man, I'll clean up the kitchen more.

 

I'll let more semi trucks merge in front of me. I'll refill the paper towel roll at work and replenish the plastic forks. I'll make a legit effort to stop cursing in front of my 11 year old brother. I'll make myself quit picking at my split ends. I'll stop tricking Matt into telling me I am the hottest woman he's ever met. Ok, sorry, forget the last thing. BUT, I will call people back! I'll listen to my voicemails! All 45 of them!

 

I will scrape every last cent together. I will wear my broken glasses instead of ordering a new pair. I will reaaaaaally try not to order a 4s despite the fact that I've had my current piece of shit phone for two years and the speaker blows out every time I'm midway through a conversation with someone slash when I'm trying to chill out to Pandora at work. Yes, I'm aware Spotify is the cool thing now.

 

I WILL SWITCH TO SPOTIFY. OR NOT! WHATEVER YOU WANT!

 

Just please, please. Get me to Portland on May 24th. Jessica will no longer live there in a year and so if I don't go this year the opportunity will have passed!

 

I'm not being dramatic.

 

Other than a healthy niece/nephew and an end to world hunger/fighting/disease/lack of puppies, this is literally ALL I WANT. You have no idea how hard it was for me to say that! I mean, my phone really is dying. I seriously need a new one.

 

 

So please, just this once, do me this solid.

 

Let me make it to Sasquatch. Let my mind be blown.

 

I promise I'll be a better person.