If you've been reading Nakedjen for any amount of time at all, you all know that I'm a bit obsessed about the Oregon Country Fair. That it is my religion. That every year, come July, I make my own personal pilgrimage to Veneta so that I can don my very best fairy wings and transform into my very best sparkly self and skip and sing and spend three days with a big fat permagrin on my face.
You also know that I'm a girl who likes to "Festival". That there really isn't a festival I won't try on for size at least once. I'm pretty certain that the roots for all of that comes from all those years I spent traipsing around the world after those boys in the band. Those were fun years. Very fun times. I was a very lucky girl.
Lucky that I was able to see so much of our country, lucky that I was able to meet so many amazing people, lucky that I was taught such valuable life lessons in a school that was so forgiving and loving.
Lucky.
I've decided that the next festival I simply must attend (and I know I'm late to the party here, too) is The Glastonbury Festival. That festival is like the Oregon Country Fair on STERIODS! Or perhaps it could be even better described (at least from what I gather) as the OCF marrys Burning Man in a beautiful non-denominational love-in! Whatever you want to call it, count me in!
I told DearSweetDave last night that we simply MUST GO. It occurs during our wedding anniversary. People, is there a better way to celebrate? Of course, I'm not giving up the Fair. So it will mean Festival in England and then Festival in Oregon.
But shouldn't life just be one long and beautiful Festival?
I think it should.
Really.
But I know that you already knew that.
Life is, after all, a celebration.
So let's celebrate.
